Girls!
by bringonthew0nder
Summary: The Doctor brings his new companion Clara to meet John and Sherlock. Little does he know when he whisks them away that one of them will magically change genders on him. Will it ever be resolved? Johnlock fluff, flirty Clara, etc. Rated T to be safe. :)
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I do not own Sherlock or Doctor Who or any of the characters, that is all BBC, but the collaboration of characters and storyline are mine. As is the boredom that sparked it. I'm planning on splitting this into a certain amount of chapters, so let me know if you want more. Not many chapters, just a few. This should be fun. ;)**

**I always love reviews, please let me know what you think. Enjoy!**

A blue box materialized in front of the familiar address. 221B Baker Street. It was raining hard and large drops of water hit it with a constant plunking sound. A young lanky man hopped out of the box, his bowtie drooping slightly and his hair soaking quickly from the impact. He held his hands up above his head, agitated by the rain, but it was no use. He scowled and called into the TARDIS, "Come on, Clara! We need to get inside! I'm cold!"

The girl named Clara called something indistinct about getting a poncho then and hopped out happily with a hood over her head. She was dressed in twenty-first century clothing, with skinny jeans and a button up red shirt, covered with a blue hoodie that kept her slightly less wet than the Doctor. Her long wavy brown hair was stuffed inside it. "Very stylish," he growled, half annoyed and half amused, "Now let's go." She smirked at him, tapping his cheek with a finger before bouncing along in front of him and approached the doorstep. She raised her hand to knock, but seemed to think better of it and asked,

"Is this the right flat? It would be terribly rude to knock on someone's door who we don't intend to enter." The Doctor said quickly,

"Yes, yes, now knock, it's freezing out here, I don't want to get pneumonia! Can Time Lords get pneumonia? I'm not sure, but I'd rather not find out!"

"Alright, alright, calm down.." She gave a sharp rap on the door and almost immediately a small woman with mousy brown hair answered the door and ushered them in.

"Hello, Mrs. Hudson!" the Doctor greeted her cheerfully. She smiled when she saw him and replied,

"Hello, Doctor. I was wondering when you would ask to come in, you've been standing out there nearly ten minutes! It really is cold outside, honey." He gave Clara a look and muttered an apology.

"So what are we doing here?" Clara asked him enthusiastically. Her eyes were bright with curiosity and a thirst for adventure. He smiled at her and answered,

"I want you to meet someone. And then we have to go." She looked sad that they were leaving so soon, but it was just Earth. She knew it fairly well. Mrs. Hudson gave her a cheeky smile before calling up the stairs.

"Sherlock! John! You have visitors!" Clara looked at the Doctor suddenly, eyes sparking.

"Sherlock?" she asked him quietly, "Does she mean the Sherlock? Like Sherlock Holmes?" He nodded quickly and chuckled when they heard his response.

"I know, I saw the TARDIS outside!" A man with sandy hair and wearing a jumper came down the stairs quickly and greeted them. He grinned widely when he saw the Doctor.

"Hello! You said you weren't coming back, why are you here?" He tilted his head to the side inquisitively and he reminded Clara a bit of a baby animal...a hedgehog perhaps. Just in his expression, it was kind of adorable. He then seemed to notice Clara was there and held out his hand. She took it and shook it.

"Hello, I'm John Watson. Who might you be? Last time he was here he was with Amy and Rory…" he quieted towards the end of his sentence when he met the Doctor's gaze and saw he looked furious, but in an icy way. It was a forbidding expression that silenced even the bravest man. John looked like he was about to ask what happened, but the Doctor's glare silenced him again.

"Later," he muttered.

"I'm Clara," she piped up, "Who are Amy and Rory?"

"Later," the Doctor told her firmly. She crossed her arms over her chest, but said no more about it. She took down her hood and unzipped her hoodie now that they were warmer. The V-neck in her shirt was dangerously low, so she buttoned up just one more button to put it in a more appropriate range. She smiled politely at him and leaned back on the kitchen sink, shaking her white Converse slightly to get the rain drops off of the rubber front.

"Sherlock?" John called up the stairs.

"Be down in a minute!" he called back. After a few seconds they heard light footsteps coming down the stairs and a tall, thin man with very wavy black hair appeared in front of them. He was handsome in an unusual way and he was wearing a dark purple button up shirt and black pants. His hands gave impression of delicacy, with long thin fingers and a pale tone. He gave off an air of power and was slightly intimidating, but the Doctor liked him, so he must be okay. Clara smiled when she saw him, taking all of this in and looking him up and down.

"Well hello," she said in a slightly suggestive tone. John cleared his throat and looked down at his feet.

"Hello Doctor," Sherlock said contently, an amused yet interested look on his face, ignoring Clara.

"Nice to see you, Sherlock! This is my new companion, Clara." He put an arm around Clara as he spoke and she frowned at him and swatted his arm away. Sherlock looked amused by her. She gave him a defiant look and crossed her arms tighter. He looked away as if he had seen it all before. Obviously he'd pissed off girls before. Or people in general.

Sherlock and the Doctor seemed to have a conversation through facial expressions in the next minute. They seemed to understand each other quite clearly. Clara suspected it had something to do with Amy and Rory. Sherlock looked sad by the end of this "conversation". He had known them, then. Well, even, as friends.

"Well how's River then?" John asked suddenly.

"River…?" Clara asked, very lost.

"She's fine. In fact, she might drop by later. We'll see," the Doctor said shortly. He walked around the room, suddenly looking intrigued. "Anything...interesting going on lately?" John snorted and looked at Sherlock.

"There's always something interesting going on with us. And Sherlock thinks he's replicated your sonic...thing. What is it, a screwdriver, right?" he said.

"Yes, the sonic screwdriver!" Clara interjected, trying to be part of the conversation. The Doctor looked slightly affronted and put a hand out.

"Let me see it," he said. Sherlock looked slightly defensive, but handed him a small device that kind of resembled the sonic screwdriver. Immediately he brought out his own and whirred it over Sherlock's device. He smiled, but it was a conflicted smile.

"You clever, clever man. It's pretty close, but it doesn't have nearly as many functions as mine. It will open doors for you, though, and...what, no fair!" he yelled at his own screwdriver. He handed it back to Sherlock with an expression like a child giving up a chocolate bar. "Yours works on wood. How did you do that?" Sherlock smirked and waved it in front of him and said snarkily,

"Spoilers."


	2. Chapter 2

"Not fair, not fair," grumbled the Doctor as Sherlock cheerfully pranced around with his version of the sonic in his hand. John just looked on bemusedly and Clara was disgruntled because she still had no idea what was going on.

"Doctor," she tapped him on the shoulder, "Who's River?"

"My psychopathic wife," he threw out casually. Clara smirked at him and asked with no lack of coyness,

"Psychopathic, is she? Is that a type or something?" He smirked back at her and gave her an affectionate poke.

"Not exactly," he shot back. His eyes glittered with age, wisdom, and most of all, secrecy. That's what drew Clara to him. When she looked into Sherlock's, she saw similar glimmers of wisdom and secrecy, but instead of age, she saw youth and inexperience. But the both of them shared something uncanny, and that was the potential darkness, hidden behind the other markers of who they are inside. They both have a terrible dark side that Clara dared not goad into the open.

John on the other hand, Clara noticed, had eyes that looked a bit broken inside, perhaps from many disappointments, failings, losses, but the cheery front was not without foundation. He didn't have the wisdom nor secrecy that Sherlock and the Doctor shared, but he was intelligent in a different way and she could tell he was capable of deeper emotion than one would think. But he was happy, for now.

This was Clara's special little trick. She had a way of reading people that wasn't so much telling their current emotion, but rather what ran through their heads as a constant. She read them and understood them and was always curious to find out more and the reasons behind what she often found. That's why she agreed to travel with the Doctor.

"Come on, Clara, we've got to go," the Doctor said, suddenly sounding a bit nervous. She crossed her arms across her chest for about the fifth time.

"No. Why?" she asked.

"Don't want to be caught up in something again. I hate it when I come for a nice little chat and it turns into some adventure where I have to save everyone," he said quietly, wringing his hands. Sherlock turned around suddenly and looked affronted.

"You save everyone?" he scoffed, "You were unconscious for most of last time and the time before that you replicated by the Nestene Consciousness and I had to engineer the anti-plastic to get you out. Not to mention Jagualus, that was an absolute -"

"Yes, thank you, Sherlock," growled the Doctor, scowling at him, "Let me remind you that on Brimput, you and John were controlled by the Hongo's and I had to save you. I saved the entire planet of Hinnon from you when you pushed the wrong button on the control panel and not the mention the fact that you nearly exploded the TARDIS the first time you were in it!" Clara giggled; she knew they weren't really mad at each other, just competitive.

"I thought you were flying it wrong, it sounded like it was dying!" cried Sherlock.

"It's MY TARDIS!" the Doctor said, exasperated, "I think after a thousand years of flying it, I know how to do it right!" John just looked on bemusedly, as if this happened all the time.

"Boys, boys, I can smell the testosterone," Clara laughed. They both turned and glared at her before realizing they were being petty and softened their gaze. John got up slowly and said,

"Thanks, Clara, you handled that…well." She smirked at him, shifting so that all her weight was on one side. The Doctor backed away from Sherlock and said,

"Alright, but seriously, we're going. Nice seeing you. Goodbye." He grabbed Clara by the sleeve and hauled her outside and towards the TARDIS.

"Where are you so keen to go?" Sherlock called out to them.

"Nothing of concern to you, go back to your flat!" the Doctor called back grumpily. Mrs. Hudson seemed to have disappeared earlier and when she came back out, she asked Sherlock where he was going to quickly. Sherlock smirked, an idea forming in his mind and told her he didn't know. John recognized the expression on his face and looked up at him.

"No, Sherlock, we can't, please don't, he'll be so upset…shit," he said. His friend was already headed in the other direction and John had to jog to keep up.

The Doctor leaped into the TARDIS, not paying much attention to Clara and ran around the console to fly them away in that wonderful brand-new blue box. Of course, it wasn't brand new, but it had seemed to remodel itself after Amy and Rory went away. He grinned at Clara as he pulled the last switch and looked up at her. Immediately he saw the two figures standing quietly behind her and scowled.

"Clara, up here if you please," he said. She quickly hopped up onto the console and he took a step towards her and asked, "Now why would you let Sherlock Holmes in my TARDIS?" She frowned and turned around, giving a small gasp of surprise when she saw them.

"Oh hello again!" Clara remarked happily, hopping down the console to shake their hands again. Sherlock smirked when she did, but John just looked exasperated.

"Clara!" the Doctor called.

"Don't blame Clara, Doctor, it was Sherlock's brilliant idea," said a very resigned sounding John.

"I should have known," he said, disgruntled. He came down from the console and examined Sherlock's face very closely, with no regard to personal space. "Not funny," he muttered to the detective.

"We miss travelling with you, so I thought I'd hitch a ride," he replied nonchalantly, making no effort to push the Doctor away. He simply sidestepped him and spread his hands over all of the buttons on the console, hovering inches above them. This seemed to make both John and the Doctor nervous.

"Please don't touch anything, Sherlock, last time you did that we all ended up in WOAH!" The TARDIS tilted to the side dramatically, sending John flying against the side and the Doctor slammed against the railing. Clara was quick enough to grab a rail and was simply hanging. Sherlock had clutched a handle of sorts. When the Doctor recovered, holding his head and groaning, he shouted,

"What did John just tell you? What button did you push? Never mind, I know it was that one." He pointed to a large blue button that Sherlock had apparently felt compelled to push. The TARDIS righted herself before shuddering and going back on course.

"Sorry," he apologized, "I thought that was the one that would send us to-"

"Do you know we could have ended up outside the time vortex and died a horrible tragic death that would loop in on itself indefinitely so we would be dying and not dying hundreds and hundreds of times over?" the Doctor asked him in a low voice.

"Obviously not or else I wouldn't have pushed it. We're all fine, so what's the fuss about?" The Doctor gave him a glare before walking around the circular console and stroking it gently, cooing to the TARDIS. Sherlock snorted bemusedly and walked over to where John was. He raised his eyebrows in concern when he saw that he'd been hurt and helped him up.

"I'm-I'm fine, Sherlock, really, I'm okay," John said loudly. He staggered when he stood, clutching his head and his side and told him not to touch any more buttons. Sherlock pursed his lips, but pulled John's arm around his shoulder and helped him walk back to the center. Clara was relatively unscathed.

A few minutes later, the TARDIS shuddered and landed. The Doctor looked at the viewing screen and frowned.

"This isn't where we were supposed to end up…" he muttered. Sherlock raced over to the screen and said,

"Told you you fly it wrong." The Doctor waved him away and shrugged.

"Oh well, this should be fun anyway." He regained his composure and flung open the door, regaining also his happy temperament. Clara found this quick change of emotions a bit unnerving, but she went with it. The Doctor called out to them and they tentatively made their way out of his marvelous machine.

It was a strange but wonderful looking place. The ground was made out of clouds it seemed, and ahead of them was a large gate, most likely guarding a city.

The gate was painted pink.

It was the way you might imagine Heaven looked, if the doors to Heaven were pink. All around them, clouds floated by without a care in the world. They approached the gates and Sherlock looked around warily.

"Large gates, most likely guarding a city, and pink, why pink? Always pink, I imagine the city will have similar color choice, and the clouds, why the clouds?" he muttered nonsensically. The Doctor smirked sideways at him. He licked a finger, held it up in the air for a moment and said,

"Welcome all, to the planet of Oz!" Clara frowned.

"You mean like in the Wizard of Oz?" The Doctor distractedly turned to her and said,

"Like what?"

"You know, Dorothy and her little dog Toto get whisked away to a faraway land called Oz, where there are munchkins and a yellow brick road to a green city!" Then it was the Doctor's turn to frown.

"Never heard of it. Sounds strange, Clara, what have you been reading lately? I worry." She gave him a light slap on the arm.

"All we need is a little dog and we'd be perfect in that story!" she exclaimed suddenly. Everyone turned to her and looked a bit annoyed and a tad confused. She shrugged and walked up to the gate.

"Wait, no, Clara, we don't know what's in there, it could be...oh." She knocked on the gate and a tiny person flew out of a small hole in the gate. It was a girl, young but not a child, wearing a small pink flower dress and a hat to match. Her skin appeared to be tinted pink as well, and her wings were a lucid shade of lavender.

"Hello and welcome to Oz!" the girl called, "You will now be subject to inspection." John started to ask what that meant, but his unspoken question was soon answered when a few tiny people like the first flew out and invaded their privacy. They fluttered through their clothes and in their pockets and down their shirts as if looking for something in vain. John let out a yelp and Sherlock looked livid and uncomfortable. The Doctor simply put his hands in his pockets and stood still. Clara jumped every time they poked or prodded her.

"Faeries!" she yelped.

"Don't be silly, these are genetically engineered alien women with wings that gives them the appearance of...yes, faeries, Clara." They finished what they were doing and the first faerie listened to their reports before sending them away. Then she narrowed her eyes accusingly.

"You are men," she said with no lack of hostility.

"Excuse me?" Clara asked, pointing to herself. The faerie smiled widely at her, curtsied politely, and said,

"No disrespect, madam, I was addressing your three companions. You see, we do not allow men people into the city of Oz." Her tinkling voice made Clara a little lightheaded, as if there was some magic in it, but she quickly recovered.

"Well, the Doctor doesn't count because he's a Time Lord, right? Not human," Clara tried. The faerie looked thoughtful before shaking her head,

"I don't think we-" Clara made a pouty face and asked her very sweetly,

"I promise we won't be long, can you please just let us in, just for a day?" The faerie looked very conflicted. She made a controlled bow towards the three boys and smiled at Clara again.

"Of course madam."

"What was your name again?" Clara asked, "You're ever so sweet." The faerie suddenly looked very scared and said quietly,

"We don't have names, madam, we just have our wings. We are identified by our wings."

"Well, what do they call you then?"

"They do not call me anything, madam."

"Call me Clara."

"I - madam, I mean Clara, I-" she looked very flustered before nervously giving them another curtsy and whisked away into the gate. Then the gate opened silently to reveal a pink faerieland inside. It was a very interesting look. The roads were paved silver and every single building was a various shade of pink. Some were aggressive hot pink brick houses and others were peaceful pale pink houses. Some were tall, some were small, but the biggest of all was in the center. There was a huge palace of a pink castle. Little lights darted around all of the windows and the Doctor whispered,

"Okay, lots and lots of faeries." Sherlock and John looked flabbergasted by the amount of pink. John nudged Sherlock and said quietly, chuckling at his own joke,

"Hey Sherlock, hey, hey Sherlock. Remind you of a Study in Pink?" Sherlock looked at him with a straight face.

"No. That's not funny, John."

"Yes it-oh alright fine," he grumbled. Clara giggled and gasped when a small faerie landed on her finger. It curtsied before glaring at the others. The Doctor winced and mouthed 'sorry' to the little person. She blew him a raspberry before flitting off.

"How odd," he said quietly. He looked curious and asked, "What do you think, Clara? Something to be discovered here?" She put her hands on her hips resignedly.

"Yes, Doctor. Something is certainly amiss."


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so third chapter is here, yaaaay! I'm thankful to any and all who read my fanfics and this is one is going to be very fun very soon. Fourth chapter should be the most fun. Woohoo! ~reviews reviews reviews~ Again, I don't own any references to Sherlock or Doctor Who in here, only the storyline is mine. **

As they made their way through the square, normal, human looking women went to and fro, shopping or chatting or doing other things that they would do in their ordinary lives. They all were young and the only elder ones they saw were the faeries. A picture was starting to form in Sherlock's mind. He nudged the Doctor and whispered,

"You know, I think I can see what's going on here. Look at the women, all the women, they're all young, 20 or less, while all the faeries are at least older than that. No exceptions that I've seen so far. Do you think they're raising the women to make them the faeries? What exactly are they doing to them? And they're not clones, so there must be males somewhere in this environment." He pointed towards the palace. "I bet you that that's where they do all of that. A glorified lab. I'd go there first if I were you."

The Doctor nodded, drinking in everything he said. All rivalry and competition was gone, they were two associates, two colleagues, a team, working perfectly together. John and Clara were the outsiders, they didn't understand what was going on quite as easily. They gave each other a glance half-subconsciously and they exchanged looks that clearly showed mutual understanding of the other's position. The two in front, the Doctor and Sherlock bounded ahead to question everything, observe everything, discover everything. They startled a few women sitting at tables eating lunch who promptly jumped up and looked terrified at the sight of Sherlock and the Doctor. John shifted himself so that he was almost out of sight behind Clara. But the one thing that nobody else noticed besides Clara was the one woman with a pointed face and long black hair who darted into a little shop and made a hurried phone call. She frowned at the woman before the Doctor grabbed her hand to run away and said,

"Come on, Clara! Places to go, people to see, schemes to stop!"

"But-" she started, resisting slightly at first before allowing him to drag her away. The woman looked at her warily as she left and they all went in the direction of the palace. She paused in awe at the sheer size of it before composing herself and allowing the Doctor and Sherlock to investigate. John hung back, his face a mixture of sadness and longing. She paced over to him and asked,

"What's wrong, John?" He seemed momentarily confused before flustering about and saying,

"Nothing, I'm fine!" His voice was a bit higher than usual and he turned around and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Her face tightened in worry and slight sympathy as she put a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned him back around.

"You love him, don't you?" He looked utterly astounded and slightly guilty.

"I-you-what-what makes you think that?" Clara raised an eyebrow.

"Seriously? It's actually a bit obvious. When you look at him sometimes I catch it, a glimmer in your eye, a sparkle in the way you look at him. Sorry, it's a bit random…" she said quietly, looking down at her feet. John sighed and looked down at his feet too.

"No, you're quite right, I do and I shouldn't."

"Being gay isn't something to be ashamed of, John, you-"

"I didn't mean that! I meant that he's my colleague, a friend. Just my best friend. And he gets on better with your Doctor anyway," he trailed off, looking a bit sad.

"Oh come on," she laughed, "Did you see the way they were bickering?" His expression silenced her. He put his hands on her shoulders and twirled her around to look at the other two men.

"Look at them. Sherlock has a respect for the Doctor that he'll never have for me because I don't understand half the things he's saying and the Doctor does. They've always hit it off, even if they bicker, because they're equals." Clara's expression softened as she gently pushed his hands away and turned back to him.

"Now I really don't think that's entirely true. For one thing, I think the Doctor is in love with that River person. He's mentioned her quite a lot and not exactly in reliable context. He tends to go off about her and have a dreamy look about him. Second, while they may be good friends, the Doctor and Sherlock would never work out together. Really. Now John, you on the other hand are Sherlock's right hand man. I've read all about your adventures!" she paused when John gave her a confused look. "Ah, perhaps not read, um, the Doctor told me about them," she fibbed before continuing, "You're his partner, his best friend, you guys are a team! The dream team, a perfect one!" This seemed to help a bit because he straightened up and said,

"I suppose, but I'll never be good eno-"

"Don't you dare tell me you're not good enough, John Watson. The Doctor told me about all the times you've saved that man's life and you stay with him through thick and thin, even though he can be an asshole. Trust me, you're definitely good enough." Clara found it strange to be giving romantic advice to a man ten or more years older than herself, while she should be the one who is insecure in that respect. She shrugged it off and gave him a charming smile. "I wouldn't worry if I were you. Give it time," she finished. He smiled gratefully and mumbled his thanks.

Clara looked up and called, "Doctor?" She hadn't seen them scurrying around and muttering for a good minute now, and this worried her greatly. "Doctor?" she called again. John furrowed his brow and cursed under his breath before saying ominously,

"Something's wrong." She resisted the urge to say something like 'Really? Tell me more', but seeing as she had just tried boosting his self-esteem, it seemed counterproductive to be cynical with him now. Clara worried her lip before snapping her gaze to John's and saying,

"We have to find them."

((()))

Sherlock awoke with his head ringing. As he looked at his surroundings, he found that they were in a very dark, dirty, although pink dungeon. The Doctor was still out cold. As he rubbed his neck where there was the most pain, he found two small punctures in the side. He pulled out a miniature mirror that he carried and flipped it open, looking at the wound in it. It was steadily turning a deep shade of purple. He groaned and muttered,

"Were we taken alive by faeries?" He put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder and shook him.

"Doctor," he whispered, "You need to wake up, we have a situation." The Doctor groaned and smacked his hand away and turned over like he was having a nice dream. "Sorry about this," Sherlock mumbled, before cupping his hands around his mouth and blowing very hard into one of the Time Lord's ears. He jumped up, holding his chest and gasping, looking around and asked,

"What was that for?" He groped for his ear and demanded, "What did you even do?"

"Blew in your ear, nothing fancy. It was that or yelling in it and I figured you wouldn't appreciate that."

"Um, yeah no thanks." He looked around and asked where they were. Sherlock informed him while squinting his eyes,

"Holding cage, I'd say. Probably at the bottom or in a remote area of the very palace we were investigating. Let me see your neck." The Doctor looked wary before lifting his chiseled chin up to reveal to Sherlock the very marks he had found on himself. Sherlock tilted his angular chin up as well to show the Doctor.

"Faerie bites, I think. They must have had some fast-acting poison of some sort, or at least a weakening agent because John and Clara didn't notice. They're not here, so I think they must still be outside. They'd have no reason to separate us after bringing us in the first time. I have a feeling we may either be held here or separated for some reason in a bit." The Doctor nodded and said,

"Good. I mean not good. This is really very not good. Lucky for us, I have my sonic, and so do you." Sherlock blinked at him.

"Please tell me you have your sonic," he told the detective. A moment of regret flashed across his eyes as he answered,

"I do not. When we ran after you and the TARDIS, I handed it to John so I could grab my coat. John should have it, but that's no use to us. But you have yours, I assume?" He nodded and pulled his own out,

"Always." They grinned at each other and sprang to the door, but as soon as they got there, the Doctor deflated visibly. He said some very colorful words before announcing,

"Wood."

"I know."

"I knew wood would be the death of me. Usually it's not a terrible situation in which my screwdriver doesn't help and there's always another way, but as of now I don't see one. Know how to pick locks?" Sherlock looked at the lock on the door before answering,

"No, it's a clever, but simple system. The actual lock part is on the outside, so I can't pry anything in to unlock us from in here. Just metal, y'see?" He stroked the piece of metal where the lock should be. The Doctor scowled before throwing his hands up in the air and walking around to another piece of the room, settling down on some hay. It was a medieval chamber, which was strange. Everything else was high-tech, but the room was made of stone and there was hay on the ground to offer some comfort, and the only door was made of wood. There wasn't even a window or skylight of any kind to ask for help. They were stuck, for now. Sherlock sighed and settled down on the hay next to the Doctor, burying his head in his arms.

"It's up to them now," the Doctor said a little sadly.

((()))

Clara and John ran around the sides of the palace to look for their friends. They spotted two tiny figures carrying two large familiar figures. The faeries were strong! They hoisted the pair up and over the walls and the other two had no choice but to watch helplessly. Clara panted, leaning on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

"They were unconscious, John! How could we not have noticed them being knocked out and dragged away?"

"I was being selfish and talking to you about my stupid feelings," he replied angrily, kicking the pink wall.

"No, don't do that...it's not your fault. I didn't notice either. And we didn't let this happen, the faeries did it to them. It's their fault, not ours," she told him firmly. John didn't seem to hear. He gave her a stony stare and said,

"We have to save them. If I had tried harder to prevent Sherlock coming then...damn…" he put a hand on his face, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Honestly, I don't think there's much anyone can do to stop Sherlock, or the Doctor for that matter, doing what he likes. Now come on!" They ran back to the entrance and tried to look for ways in.

((()))

A small figure entered after about an hour of the pair being conscious. She set a clipboard down on a stool and coolly informed Sherlock and the Doctor,

"You have been dosed with faerie venom. If you attempt to escape or attack me during this audience, my guards will make sure that the next time you are bitten, you will not be so lucky as to wake up." They scowled at her, and the Doctor asked her,

"What do you want with us? We meant no harm to your people."

"Is that so? Then why, sir, were you snooping around the palace gates?" She said 'sir' as if it was a bitter taste in her mouth. The woman just appeared to be a very large faerie. She had wings and sharp teeth, but she was not fist-sized.

"No ma'am, we were just curious about the ways in which you, ah, live your daily lives," he tried. She raised an eyebrow at him and answered,

"Well, the fact remains that the gatekeeper should not have let you in in the first place, seeing as you are of the male gender. However, we do still have use for you both. No one need know what has happened." Sherlock looked as though he were about to point out that John and Clara would know, but thought better of it and closed his mouth. It would be better for the both of them if the woman was not aware of their companions. She didn't seem to notice his fumble and walked around Sherlock first. With a thin finger, she tilted his chin upwards and murmured,

"Yes, you will do very nicely." He frowned and demanded,

"What for?" She scrutinized him before informing him,

"You will undertake the change. Whenever males stumble into our kingdom, we do like to keep this place purged of them, and the more effeminate ones will become their gender counterpart." They two men looked shocked and Sherlock sputtered,

"Effeminate?" The Doctor narrowed his eyes,

"You mean to turn him into a girl? You can't-that's not-"

"We do not go about it in the usual method. It is not technically a permanent change until they turn faerie. Then the process is irreversible. The male counterpart DNA is stored in liquid indefinitely, and cannot change a faerie back to it's original male form. The DNA is kept in case we require-"

"Breeding stock," Sherlock cut in coldly.

"Exactly," she affirmed. Then she pointed at the Doctor. "You, on the other hand, will have a different role. The women here are deprived of male company until it is their time to bear children. Some will choose the DNA, but most choose the alternative natural method, since they are deliberately deprived. Since our DNA is so very limited, you will become-"

"A body for hire," Sherlock cut in again. She looked a bit annoyed at being cut off twice now, but patiently answered,

"Yes, but you will not get any benefit from it other than what you make of it."

"Nice to know," the Doctor said bitterly, looking utterly disgusted.

"You, with me, now," she demanded of Sherlock. He looked surprised that it was happening so soon, but just glanced back at the Doctor who shrugged and mouthed, 'We'll get you out of this.' Sherlock could only glare before a light piece of something that resembled nylon floated down from the sky and landed on his wrists. She demanded that he put his wrists together, smirking. He did reluctantly and when he did, the nylon wrapped around them and solidified. The Doctor looked shocked at this, but even more so when Sherlock struggled and then gave a gasp of pain. The nylon was shocking him if he tried to escape. The Doctor shouted an apology to him as he was led out the door, and he slumped in his prison once again.

((()))

Sherlock stopped struggling against his bonds as he left the cell and followed the vulgar woman through the halls. He tried to memorize the route so he could make it back if he needed to. The woman led him to a small room with a chair in the center. It looked perfectly ordinary, made of plastic, almost comfortable. She demanded that he sit there, and he did, not seeing an alternative. He was cold and silent the whole time. When he sat down, almost immediately the chair wrapped around him like a cocoon, much like the motion the nylon had made on his wrists. His hands were forced in front of him and tightly pushed against his torso and his legs knocked together as it spun around him, tighter and tighter. His head was the only thing spared and soon enough he was engulfed in the white cocoon.

The woman snapped her fingers crisply and almost immediately colored faeries flew down from the ceiling, swarming around Sherlock like bats. She cried over them,

"It's been so long since they've had fresh meat! Your change will come quickly, man, do not fear the changeling faeries!" He shouted before they completely overtook him,

"Who do you think you are anyway?" She smiled darkly and answered,

"My name is Esmeralda, and I am soon to be the only mother you know." Her long dark hair flipped as she bounced out of sight and Sherlock was overtaken by the pink masses.

The faeries bit and scratched at every place they could find. While the cocoon was rock hard for Sherlock, it bent as easily as cobwebs for them as they went all over his body for a clear space to inject their venom into him. They took chunks of flesh as they went and Sherlock tried not to scream as a single tear went down his face from the pain. Finally the sharp pain began to ebb away and dull pain overtook him. The cocoon reached up and embraced his head and the faeries flew away, a job well done. He found himself asleep soon enough, in his dreams calling for his best friend John and John never seeming to hear him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 is here, woot woot! There will be a bunch of questions at the end of the chapter from your guys' end so just hang in there! All of your questions will be answered in Chapter 5. Or later. Not sure. Soon enough. :) **

**Thanks to any and all who are following/reading this story of mine; I really appreciate the support! Again, I unfortunately don't own BBC or Doctor Who or Sherlock, etc. Please review and enjoy! **

Clara and John's fists hurt from pounding endlessly on the pink wooden door that held the only entrance they could find to the palace. They had fallen asleep near it, taking cover under very thick underbrush nearby. Clara woke first, finding herself closer to John than they had fallen asleep as. She carefully scooted away from him, trying not to wake or alarm him. She looked kindly on his worn face before shaking him lightly, saying,

"John. John? We have to get up. It's a miracle we haven't been found already! John!" He mumbled something incoherent about Sherlock and opened his eyes. His sandy blond hair glinted yellow in the sunlight through the patches in the bush. He yelped when he saw her, but soon remembered where they were and what they were doing. He nodded at her and rubbed his eyes and sat up.

"Sorry Clara, I-" Suddenly the bush rustled without either of them moving. They both froze and looked up. Standing above them was an aggressive looking woman with blond hair. She smirked cheekily when she saw them and immediately Clara stood and asked,

"Who are you?" She narrowed her eyes at the interloper who just stared at her and asked,

"What's he doing in there? There's no guys allowed in the kingdom." John stood and said quietly,

"Sorry, wasn't exactly here by choice." He glared at Clara before she asked the girl,

"Why aren't you freaking out? Most of the other girls freaked out when they saw John and-" she stopped, not wanting to reveal there were others. The girl looked around cautiously and said,

"Follow me." She took Clara by the hand and led them both around the corner and into a pink house that was just a very light shade of pink. She sat them down on a couch in the middle of the house and sat across from them.

"I'm Finn," she started awkwardly.

"I'm Clara and this is my friend John," Clara replied. The girl looked down at her lap before looking back up at them and saying,

"This world is messed up, you really need to get him out of here." There was something in her voice, something missing or wrong that Clara immediately picked up on. Then she pointed a finger at Clara,

"And how old are you?" Clara was wary and said,

"Eighteen, not that it should matter." Finn looked slightly freaked and answered,

"It does matter. You're lucky. If you were a year older…" She shuddered as she trailed off. "Can I trust you two?" Finn asked, sounding very vulnerable.

"Of course," Clara and John said together. Finn nodded before continuing,

"Alright, I'm not saying I do trust you, but you seem trustworthy enough. This kingdom, this planet, is messed up, like I said. I'm not...I used to be...I'm not a girl." Clara made a funny face and asked what Finn meant. Finn looked pained, but pulled out a photograph of two figures on the beach. One was a little girl with brown hair and the other was a teenage boy with blond hair, who was, for the record, very good looking. She handed it to Clara, who looked at it with John, but they didn't see the connection.

"I'm the boy in that photograph," Finn continued, "When I landed here by accident, I was a young Time Agent, seventeen years old. They took me into that bloody pink palace and made me like this. The faeries just came out and...attacked me and then there was darkness and then I was a girl." She looked very upset by this.

"Generally for girls like me, changelings we're called, they change our minds so that we conform like everybody else. I resisted enough that their machines couldn't make me do that, luckily. They want us deprived of male company and full of lust so that right before they turn us into faeries, we...reproduce so they can make more of us. You can understand then, why I'm concerned for John and why this is particularly upsetting to me." Clara looked scandalized with this information, John looked mostly thoughtful but a little fearful.

"Is that what they do to all the boys who come through here, by accident or otherwise?" John finally asked. Finn shook her head.

"The others they keep in the dungeons. They're used for the girls when they need...a male body to do it with. I think they said something about keeping them young so that they don't die. They don't get a lot of guys here." Finn looked up, her eyes very troubled and finished,

"I'm telling you all this so you can leave, get out of here. You have to go, unless you want him to end up like me or the other guys." Clara shook her head sadly.

"We can't leave. Our companions were taken. Now that we know what you've told us, we can't leave them there." The fact that their companions were men was unspoken and understood. Finn just looked at them sadly and said,

"I don't think you can save them. The faeries are too powerful. I'm almost about to become one myself. I turn nineteen next month. That's when I become on of them and there's nothing I can do to stop it."

"So will you help us? We can take you away from here too, and fix you!" Clara tried.

"No. I can never go to that place again. The palace is full of dark experiments I won't even talk to you about. I'm sorry." Finn's expression darkened as if remembering her experience in the palace. Clara mumbled an apology to Finn about her fate and started to lead John out the door. Finn called to them.

"Hang on, there might be something I can do to help you!"

((()))

Sherlock awoke on a soft bed. It was very comfortable, but he quickly noticed his arms and legs were restrained. He scowled immediately. He noticed the bonds were only temporary, however, when he lifted his arm and gently the ribbons around his wrist came off and he could sit up. When he pushed the blanket off of himself, he noticed a few things. One, he was naked. Two, his back was under more strain than he was used to. He looked down and almost shouted when he saw the new weight on his chest. He poked one to make sure it too was real and was sickened to find he now had breasts. He stood and looked down at his crotch. Yup. That was definitely new. He swallowed, shaking slightly from the shock. Sherlock looked in front of him and saw a mirror. He was now confused by his own body, which was not something he wanted to be confused about.

Was it considered bad to look at himself?

He noticed that he now had noticeable curves. He had thick curly black hair that reached his waist. He took a bit of it in his hand, twirling the ends with a finger. Sherlock had seriously conflicted feelings about this. On the one hand, he was very attractive and recognized that. On the other hand, he was a girl, and he was trapped, and he was not happy about it. Sherlock looked at his own face, recognizing the high cheekbones and thin mouth and deep eyes, but not the shaped eyebrows or the more feminine jawline. He put a hand on his hip and felt indecent about it, but what was he supposed to do?

He had bangs now, that was interesting. The wound on his neck was missing, which was also a plus. Sherlock finally took the time to look around the room and found it was small, but pretty. There was a dresser with clothes inside and a hairbrush, hairbands and various accessories sitting on top. He started with clothing. He stiffened when he pulled open the underwear drawer. This was not what he was used to. He pulled on a small black pair of panties that fit his smaller hips and was more relieved to move on to pants. He grabbed a pair of long black pants that seemed to be to his liking, but were close-fitting. This was new as well. He ended up grabbing a pair of dark skinny jeans. Then he looked at the obstacle of his chest and almost reached for a shirt before realizing there was another piece of clothing to be reckoned with. He found a drawer filled with frilly bras and scowled. Sherlock found one that was white and seemed to fit him perfectly, with a cushion like feeling under his chest. He hadn't realized it was a push-up, but he didn't really care. Then he put on a dark blue V-neck sweater that suited him and examined himself. Anything else he was forgetting?

Sherlock glanced at the dresser again, and then at his hair. He tentatively ran a brush through it before realizing it would take a lot more to fix it. It hurt terribly as he pulled through all of the knots, but finally it was flawless. He put a hairband on his thin wrist and managed to figure out how to pull his hair back into a ponytail. There. That wasn't so hard. The bangs annoyed him because every time he walked, the bounced against his forehead, but at least they weren't in the way. He settled in a cushy chair in front of a desk and wondered what he was supposed to be doing.

Suddenly the door creaked as it was pushed open. Sherlock jumped to his feet, grabbing the first thing within his reach to defend himself. He scowled when he realized first who had entered and second that he had grabbed his black hairbrush. He set it down and crossed his arms across his chest. Esmeralda sat on his bed and motioned him over. He didn't move, but simply blinked at the intruder.

"Well I see you've taken to your new body well. Most don't make it past the mirror." He just kept scowling and said,

"I am not alarmed by the female anatomy. The only difference is that I am bearing it." She raised en eyebrow at him and said,

"Well I have to say you have definitely taken to it better than most. You are so far the most attractive outcome. Some males come out still looking their own gender!" Her laugh tinkled through the air and annoyed Sherlock greatly. Was that supposed to be funny?

"Repulsive…" he muttered. He noticed that his voice had taken a female quality, still low but now definitely female. Esmeralda's eyes glittered as she stood up and put a hand out, obviously expecting Sherlock to take it. He kept his arms crossed.

"My, my, taken on the female temper already. What's your name anyhow? I never asked."

"Then you'll never know." If that annoyed her, she didn't show it. Her face was stony calm, but Sherlock saw past her almost easily. He could tell he was getting on her nerves. He looked in the mirror again, his colorful eyes alight, eyelashes thick and eyes almond shaped. He hated that he was getting slightly attracted to himself. That was weird. He snapped his gaze back to the real problem. She gave him a charming smile, her youthful face curved and also not unattractive.

"Come with me."

((()))

The Doctor sat glumly in the dark cell. He didn't expect to be called on so soon again. Esmeralda entered and shut the door behind her. He scowled at her and asked,

"What do you want?" He hadn't eaten anything since he had last been on the TARDIS and he was starving, but he didn't plan on letting her know that. Unfortunately, his stomach betrayed him and let out a wail like a dying beast. Esmeralda smirked at him and asked,

"Hungry?" He scowled at her and mumbled affirmatively.

"Well I suppose you must eat, but not until you have first completed your first assignment." His eyes widened in understanding and he backed against the wall.

"No, you can't, you don't understand. I'm not human, I'm-"

"Please, how could you not be? I know what a non-human looks or rather, smells like. You're as human as your companion." She snapped her fingers and two faeries fluttered down and fixed their grips on his wrists. They pulled him up and started pulling him towards the door.

"NO, you can't, I'm a Time Lord! I-"

"All the better, my faeries will have thirteen lives instead of one. Even better. Come along, sir." She swung her hips around and led them out of the room and through the many corridors of the palace.

The Doctor tried not to completely freak out and just kept giving her reasons why she couldn't make him do this, but she simply laughed and continued walking. She led him to a dimly lit room with a large bed in the center, with purple covers. He closed his eyes tightly before opening them again. A beautiful girl with a thin green robe was in the center of the room, just holding her robe closed. Her green eyes glittered with lust and her ginger hair reached her waist. She was no doubt very attractive, but the Doctor was not interested in taking part at all. Esmeralda left behind him before he could turn around and soon he was alone with her.

"Very, very not good," he muttered. "Um, hello, I'm the Doctor. We really can't do this, it's a very bad idea, I-umm…" She approached him slowly, swinging her hips seductively, her eyes held low and her hands reaching out to him. He backed against the door while she cooed slowly, fondling his bowtie,

"Well aren't you shy? Lucky for you, you're a very…pretty...boy." She emphasized the last few words while planting kisses on his cheek.

"Oh dear," he started, "No really, you can't, I don't want to, please don't…" The girl was obviously very eager because she soon thrust herself against him before pulling him by the suit to the bed, forcing him down and laying on top of him. Her robe slipped off as she kissed his neck and pulled off his bowtie.

"Nice bow-tie, Doctor," she commented.

"Uh, yeah, bowties are cool," he managed to squeak.

((()))

Sherlock refused to follow Esmeralda anywhere she wanted him to go.

"No thanks," he said after being asked a third time. A flash of anger flickered in her electric blue eyes for a few seconds before it disappeared.

"Well if you won't come quietly, I'll be forced to…" She snapped her fingers as she had done before to summon the faeries. Sherlock flinched visibly, not willing to recall his previous experience with the lot of them. Fortunately for this time, only three came down and fixed themselves on his wrists, pulling him in the direction he didn't want to go. He took advantage of his new claw-like fingernails and stabbed one of them, injuring it so that it fell off, but it simply squeaked discontentedly and was quickly replaced with another. This time, two took it's place and lifted his arms and his legs so he was floating. He simply crossed his legs and arms and closed his eyes, looking away. He would not take part willingly.

Esmeralda let out an exasperated huff and led them to another room that didn't look very inviting. It was completely white and looked completely bleached, save for a couple small drops of blood next to the operating table. Sherlock squinted his eyes and then leaned back contentedly. The blood was left purposely to scare him, but it wasn't going to. From the position and spread of the droplets, he concluded that it was simply from the wrist rather than the head or somewhere else terribly important. Possibly from struggling out of pain or severe resistance. He smirked. She pretended not to notice. They led him over to the table as he had thought and quickly secured him.

"So what now?" he asked coolly. The faeries disappeared and she was left alone with him. Her eyes glowed.

"Now we fix you up so that you don't resist. Dumbed down essentially. You will learn to love me as you would love your own mother."

"I was never close to my mother."

"Sister?"

"Nope."'

"Best friend?"

"...Never."

"Well then, sir, you have nothing to lose, do you?" She smirked at him before walking out and he quickly caught sight of her in an observation window in front of him. He pulled against the restraints and tried pulling himself out. He suddenly gasped in intense pain when the leather straps on his wrists shot small spikes out from the inside and pierced his thin wrists. Sherlock looked at her as if he'd seen her for the first time.

"Are you insane? If these pierce the right arteries, I'll bleed out and this will all be for nothing! You vulgar woman!" he spat. She simply shrugged and answered,

"If you don't struggle the skin won't tear and you'll be fine. Just calm down and let me help you." Her charming voice made him dizzy and he set his head back against the headboard. Then he remembered what he stood to lose by letting her take over his mind. A helmet descended upon him and he pulled his wrists up, careful not to pull them side to side. He nearly cried out in pain from pulling them up, allowing the spikes to penetrate his wrists completely, but regardless of what that witch told him, he stood to lose a lot.

The helmet covered his head and started filling his brain with a buzzing noise, trying to drown out other thoughts completely. With this knowledge, Sherlock concentrated hard on what he knew.

The black door to 221B. The gold print that bore that address. The flat, with John's armchair and his couch. John's blog. John's laptop. John's tendency to watch crap television when they weren't busy. His own smiley face on the wall. Meeting John at the lab. His first case with John. John saving his life. More than once. Moriarty ambushing John, threatening both of them. Telling John he was his best friend. Jumping off the hospital roof to save his life. The TARDIS. The Doctor and Amy and Rory, John now in the background. Going on those crazy adventures. Being home again. Joking around with John. Having fun with John. The Doctor coming back over and over. Riding a dragon. Rescuing John from a pit of lava. Almost losing him twice when the Doctor saved him in the nick of time. Almost dying himself a couple of times and John saving his sorry ass. His friends needed him now. The Doctor was trapped with a fate he didn't want. John and Clara alone outside with no way to leave without them. Wonderful, wonderful John who needed his help now.

Sherlock finally screamed with fury, his wrists bleeding profusely, the machine still buzzing in his head. He heard the machine shut down finally, silencing itself and raising back up. He lay back against the table, gasping from the pain and emotion. He was sweating slightly and he whined before sitting up and looking around. His vision was fuzzy and he saw a blurry figure rushing around him and pulling the restraints off and trying to pull him up.

"Sherlock! Sherlock!" the figure called, "You're Sherlock, right?" Finally the figure smacked his cheek hard. Sherlock's arm flew out and caught him around the wrist, bleeding on the interloper.

"Who is-who'zzat?" he asked with a heavy slur. His vision cleared a bit and he asked quietly,

"Doctor?" The man with the bowtie slightly askew nodded and said,

"Come on, we've got to get you out of here." A ginger head poked out from behind the Doctor.

"Amy?" Sherlock asked incredulously.

"No, I'm Katerina. Come on, seriously, listen to him, we have to go. We don't have a lot time." The Doctor looked embarrassed at her appearance. Sherlock smirked; he recognized that expression.

"Been busy, Doctor?"

"Don't want to talk about it. Not funny, Sherlock, let's go." He finally cleared his vision completely and stumbled off the table, holding his wrists in his shirt.

"Here, try this." Katerina took off the tie of a thin green robe and handed it to Sherlock. He nodded at her gratefully and wrapped it around his wrists. It limited him, but it was better than bleeding all over the place.

"Thanks." She shrugged as they jogged quickly out of the room.

"How did you..?"

"Katerina, brilliant by the way, she managed to distract Esmeralda long enough to knock her out with her own faeries and stop the machine. You were screaming your head off, by the way, I was very worried," the Doctor explained quickly.

"What...distraction?" he asked hoarsely.

"You don't want to know. Just go along with it." The Doctor's eyes were pleading and embarrassed, so Sherlock decided to drop it.

"You a changeling?" Katerina asked. Her voice was light and airy, but not annoying like Esmeralda. She was obviously intelligent and her tone was curious, not judgmental. Sherlock nodded, swallowing and meeting her eye tersely. She looked pained for him, like she felt bad for him. He just looked down and pursed his lips.

Running was different as a girl. Not enjoying it so far. Too much baggage. Oh well.

The Doctor turned a corner, skidding as he did so and asked Katerina, "Where did you say the door was?" She gulped.

"I didn't. You may want to look ahead." He had turned to look at her so when he turned back around, the Doctor skittered to a stop.

"Oh dear," he said quietly.

"Indeed," Sherlock agreed. Esmeralda had her hair mussed and looked overall very disheveled, her hands on her hips. In her hand she held a long thin needle that resembled a foil and behind her were a whole horde of faeries turned red with anger. Katerina squeaked and hid behind the Doctor.

"Katerina, I will deal with you later. As for you two, my faeries will consume you. You will not survive. You will not escape." As she raised her foil to give the order, a bright line shone in behind them and a large blast flattened the faeries and their mistress. Luckily, the three dropped to the floor before the energy wave could hit them, and a familiar figure bounced onto the scene.

"Hello Sweetie."


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, so this is basically catching you up on what happened before everybody shows up and knocks out Esmeralda and her faeries. Then it continues from there. I've marked it all so nobody gets confused. :)**

**Disclaimers: I STILL don't own BBC, Sherlock, Doctor Who, although I wish I did, but the idea for the story is mine. Enjoy! **

_Before the rescue:_

Finn approached Clara and John at the door.

"What exactly can you do?" John asked her. Finn pointed a finger at him and said,

"You need to pass as a girl. And it's not gonna be easy, mate." Clara giggled at the idea of John being a girl and she led him back inside, a shocked expression on his face.

"Why do I have to…?" he started to whine.

"You saw what happened to the Doctor and Sherlock and I'm pretty sure Sherlock wouldn't fancy you being up in the cells with him, John," Clara said sternly.

"I know but I-"

"Just go with Finn, I can help with makeup or whatever."

"Makeup?!" Finn whisked John away, giggling with Clara as they led him to the bathroom. Finn rushed to her bedroom and pulled out a shirt and a skirt for him to wear. Luckily for Finn she wasn't petite, because while John wasn't a big guy, he wasn't about to fit into an extra-small. John's eyes widened when he saw the outfit and Finn just said,

"Trust me, it's better than trying to get you into my jeans. Skirts are easier. I promise." John just scowled and shut the bathroom door to change. When he came out, the shirt looked stretched across his military-built chest.

"Shit…" muttered Finn, before looking around thoughtfully. "Sorry, John, you're not going to like this, but it's the only way." She went into her closet and pulled out a corset. John just let out a low whine and snatched it from her.

"Oh no, you need to take off your shirt and we need to help you with this one." He looked incredibly pained at the idea, but he took off his shirt and allowed Clara and Finn to fix it around his torso. It wasn't going to go on easily, and his chest was still very wide, but it managed to fix around him and give him the shape the were looking for.

"I...can't...breathe," John gasped. He held his hands against his stomach where the corset was tightest. He made the mistake of sucking in when they put it on and now it was too tight.

"Much better," Finn said, satisfied, as John just stood there looking like he was about to pop.

"Clara…" John tried to appeal to her, but she just smiled at him and shook her head. They put the shirt back on and now it fit a lot better, fitting close to the corset. They also fitted him with a Spanx to make the skirt fit better. Clara wrinkled her nose when she saw his legs and told him to go shave them. He scowled and pointed at both of them before he went into the bathroom, saying,

"You'll both pay dearly for this one day." They just giggled and waved him away.

"Beautiful," Clara commented when he came back out.

"Shut up," John snapped, his patience wearing a bit thin, "This had better work, Finn." She just smirked and walked away to get him shoes. She came back with some wedges that matched the pink skirt and he worked them onto his feet, just accepting his fate.

By the end of two very long hours, John was dressed in a yellow blouse and hot pink maxi skirt with matching pink wedges. He had manicures and pedicures in matching shades of pink and he was wearing a very believable wig of straight hair that matched John's shade of hair and went down to his shoulders and gave him cute bangs. They had put makeup all over his face to make his eyes look brighter and more youthful, and his lips looked fuller and more feminine. Clara was a whizz with a makeup brush and managed to emphasize perfect sides of his face to make it look more angular and feminine as well. He was as feminine as he would ever be.

Finn and Clara stood in front of him, arms crossed and with identical facial expressions.

"Hmmm...is there anything else we can do?" Clara asked.

"No, if we put any more on his face will break out and you don't want to know what they do to you then."

"What do they do?"

"Exfoliation."

"That's not bad." Finn gave her a stern look.

"Is it bad for you guys?" she asked.

"Um, yeah," Finn replied.

"Sorry...you know a lot about makeup for a guy," Clara tried.

"I'm not a guy anymore."

"I know, but-"

"Just stop."

"Okay, sorry."

"S'fine." Finn walked up to John and put her hands under his chest, pushing the bra up slightly. John shifted uncomfortably.

"Alright, you're fine for now. You should be fine for a few days," Finn told him.

"Perfect," John mumbled. Finn clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. Clara laughed and took John by the sleeve, pulling him towards the door.

"Thanks so much for your help, Finn!" she called.

"No problem. Good luck!" she replied. Clara stopped, thinking for a moment before adding,

"We'll get you out of here, I promise."

"Thanks, but I don't think that's going to happen," Finn replied sadly. She brightened, for their sake it seemed, and shut the door behind them. John thought that Finn reminded him of Molly from back home. He started to feel a bit homesick, but they had to rescue Sherlock and the Doctor.

((()))

"Wait, wait, wait!" cried the Doctor, putting a hand on the girl's collarbone to put her away. She whined and tried to push back to him, but he suddenly commanded very seriously, "Stop." For the first time since he had entered, she listened to him. She had managed to get his jacket off, but that was as far as he was going to let her get. She stood up and backed away with a very pouty expression on her face.

"We're supposed to do this, it's all we're meant to do! Why won't you cooperate?" she complained petulantly. The Doctor stood slowly, approaching her with the same caution. His hands were defensively in front of him and said,

"I just want to show you something first." She smiled seductively again and asked coyly,

"What is it, Doc-tor?" He gulped and put his hands on her temples and told her to close her eyes. She obeyed, but she still obviously thought it was some kind of dirty game. She gasped when he started channeling his history into her head. Her reaction mirrored that of an old friend of the Doctor's, Craig. She pulled away, eyes wide and stuttered,

"You-you-you-the Doctor-the TARDIS-oh my God!" The Doctor very seriously told her to come back. She did and he filled her in on the situation. She fell back against the bed, putting out a hand to steady herself.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, I just-" She was blushing furiously as she pulled her robe back on and tied it around herself. He didn't look mad.

"I'm not upset, I think you're being controlled and besides," he snapped the straps that kept his pants up, "I'm practically irresistible. You were just doing what you've been taught to do. But now I need you to help me. What's your name?" She looked thoughtful before saying,

"Katerina, I think. When I'm a faerie I won't have a name, so I've stopped using it the last couple of years. Fairly sure I'm Katerina." The Doctor rubbed his hands together before saying,

"Come here." She looked frightened.

"What else do you have to show me?"

"You'll see, hang on, just come." He put his fingers to her temples one last time and streamed himself into her mind.

Interesting. Someone has somehow given her something to make her forget things over time and fill in the thoughts they want her to think. My history must have cracked the shell of things they've hidden, so she remembered her name. If I could just… he thought to himself. He found an inconsistency and took advantage of it. Suddenly she fell away from him, falling against the floor and holding her head and rolling around.

"Katerina, don't worry!" he told her, "Your mind is just processing your real thoughts and memories and throwing out everything they fed you, all those lies, they're going!" When she stilled, her hands were by her sides and she just laid their limply, eyes staring at the ceiling and tears streaming down her face. He worried his lip before leaning down, taking a hand in his and stroking it comfortingly.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know this process hurts sometimes, I-"

"It's not that," she whispered, "All the memories...my life was so wonderful before I came here. They made me like this, Esmeralda-" She yelped, putting her hands up to her eyes, and she let out a sob, "I want to go home, Doctor. I want to go home…" He creased his brow anxiously, telling her he was sorry and just stroking her hand, not sure what else to do.

"Katerina," he whispered after a few minutes, "I promise to take you home, but you need to help me spring a friend and get out of here." She looked up at him sadly before nodding sadly. Before she got up, she put a hand around his neck and kissed him softly. He couldn't move. She let him go quickly and stood up, retying her robe. He put his jacket back on and retied his bowtie nervously.

"Geronimo!" he yelled, before letting her lead him to where Sherlock would most likely be.

((()))

John and Clara wandered around aimlessly, because honestly, after Finn's help, they weren't sure what they were supposed to do to save the Doctor and Sherlock. They had no weapons, no way in, and no plan. Evening was setting in again, and they had settled down and ate some strange looking sandwiches because John was complaining that his feet hurt. They heard a shriek come from down the street. They both perked their heads up and looked at each other and smiled. Something to do. They ran, or rather John hobbled, over to the disturbance. They caught sight of a threatening looking woman with golden brown curly hair that didn't seem to know any boundaries with two holsters on her belt, and one of the guns was missing and in her hand. She was holding it up, pointing it at anyone who moved and kept her hand on the other one.

This woman was quite beautiful, wearing close-fitted jeans, high, laced-up boots, and a white blouse that caught her body in all the right places. Clara and John stepped forward and the woman pointed the gun at them. She looked frightened, but determined and furious, which was a dangerous combination for anyone she decided she didn't like. John put a hand out almost defensively in front of him and asked,

"River?" Her expression immediately clouded, evidently confused. John was relieved; it was her. "River, it's me, John Watson." She still looked confused. Clara knew this was the mysterious River Song the Doctor always mentioned.

"John?" she asked quietly, not lowering her weapon, "What the hell are you wearing?" John looked down.

"Um, drag." The girls around them gasped and backed away from John as if he were some sort of monster, "I swear it's me though." She narrowed her eyes.

"Prove it."

"River!"

"Prove it now." He thought for a moment before Clara cut in.

"Pond." River scowled at her.

"What did you say?"

"Pond. That's your maiden name of sorts, isn't it? The Doctor told me about you, quite a lot actually. Melody Pond, right?"

"No, I'm River Song. Melody Pond is not my name anymore." She lowered the gun and tilted her head curiously, walking over to them. She leaned in closely to John's face to look at him closely. The eyes clued her in and she nodded. She holstered her weapon and said,

"Hello John. Who's this? New girlfriend?" Clara and John both looked at each other in a mutual expression of respect but no affection and said at the same time,

"No." She smirked at both them and stuck out her hand in Clara's direction.

"River Song. Sorry about being so harsh, dearie, someone kidnapped my husband and they are going to pay dearly when I come to get him out." Clara looked at her curiously now.

"Clara. But how do you know about that?"

"TARDIS told me. Very smart machine, she is. We have our own type of communication. But never mind that, seriously, where is he?" Clara pointed to the pink palace.

"God, I hate this place already…come on then." She walked ahead of them confidently towards the palace. A couple of faeries gave them trouble on the way but River quickly shot them down. John gave an indignant start when she did it the first time.

"Sorry, honey, they kidnap my husband, they don't deserve my mercy. I would appreciate it if you didn't mention that to him, though, he gets cross," River remarked. He was silenced.

((()))

_Where the last chapter left off/current: _

The Doctor gaped when he saw River standing in front of him, along with Clara and what appeared to be a man in drag. Probably John.

"River!" he shouted, "What made you think coming here was a good idea? The faeries will-"

"Oh look at you," she laughed, "Scared of the faeries! What have they done to you?" He scowled and asked her quietly,

"How did you even know to come?" His tone told Clara he was furious, but also a bit relieved. Sherlock finally stood, having recovered from the shock of the energy wave from River's gun. Katerina was standing awkwardly next to him.

"Who-who are you?" she asked River. Her gaze slid to Katerina's.

"Me? Why I'm his wife. Who might you be?" She gulped, obviously intimidated, and replied,

"J-just a friend." River nodded approvingly, but she furrowed her brow when she saw that Katerina was only wearing a thin green robe she was holding together with her hands. Sherlock stepped out into the light, blinking quickly and asked,

"Where's John?" John stepped out from behind River, hobbling in his shoes and raised a hand.

"Sherlock? Is that you?" When he took in Sherlock's full appearance, he looked upset and rushed to his friend.

"What have they done to you?" he asked in almost a whine when he put his hand under Sherlock's chin.

"Please, John, I should be asking you that. Why are you in drag?"

"Long story."

"Well you should probably change, it's not attractive."

"Thanks a lot."

"Well, it's true."

"Well you look fabulous in drag."

"Thank you." John threw up his hands exasperatedly and walked away from him. Sherlock smirked, but seemed relieved that John was okay. Clara shot Sherlock a glare, and walked over to the Doctor.

"So what now?" He looked thoughtful before telling them,

"We need to get out of here first."

"Agreed," said just about everyone at the same time. The whole crew stepped out into the night, leaving Esmeralda and the faeries behind. The minute John stepped outside into the night air, he fainted. Sherlock and Clara rushed to him first, the Doctor on their heels.

"What's wrong with him?" Clara cried. Sherlock put his ear near John's face and came back up, saying,

"Short of breath, he can barely breathe." His gaze went immediately to Clara. "What did you do to him?" Clara thought for a moment and gasped,

"The corset!" Sherlock looked livid and the Doctor just looked conflicted between amusement and seriousness.

"Why would you put him in a corset?!"

"He was supposed to be in drag so he didn't end up like you! He didn't fit into any of Finn's shirts so we had to put him in it!"

"Just get it off!" interjected the Doctor. Sherlock ripped open John's shirt easily, the buttons popping in all directions before huffing angrily at the obstacle of the corset. He turned him over, and huffed again at all of the laces. He reached into his pocket to find he wasn't even wearing his jacket.

"Knife!" he shouted.

"Here," Katerina handed him a short throwing knife.

"Where were you hiding that?" the Doctor asked her incredulously. She smirked and put a finger to her lips.

"Secret." He smiled at her before turning back to Sherlock. Sherlock ripped the knife down the laces, freeing John's lungs and ribcage from oppression. At first nothing happened but Sherlock turned him over and pulled the corset off with the gentlest of care and suddenly John gasped, eyes snapping wide open. He flopped like a fish out of water for a minute before settling, putting a hand on his stomach and said harshly,

"God, Sherlock!"

"What, I didn't do anything!" John met his eyes and just laughed softly.

"Sorry, I'm just so used to it being you who I'm yelling at I don't know how to yell at anyone else," he said cheerfully. Sherlock's scowl cracked into a grin and he leaned back happily. His ponytail snapped and his hair swung over his shoulder and hit John in the face. John just laughed harder. He pulled a small portion of it softly and asked between breaths,

"What is this?" Sherlock responded with the same gleeful response.

"My hair, stupid." They just sat there laughing like madmen for a few minutes before it became uncomfortable for everyone else and they calmed down and the group made plans for what they were to do now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6, finally! I hope you guys are enjoying the fic, it's gotten a bit lengthier than I intended, but I hope I didn't drag it out too long. It should end with Chapter 7 or 8. Please review, I always love getting them! Thanks guys! **

**Disclaimer: Still don't own DW or Sherlock, dammit.**

"River, hand me that screwdriver," the Doctor requested.

"Ironic, don't you think?" she joked when she handed him a regular screwdriver.

"Yes, it's all very funny," he replied dryly.

"Oh come on, what's wrong with you?" she asked, sounding half concerned and half annoyed.

"I don't like it when people stand above everybody else and make 1984 a pink reality." He was referring to, of course River knew, the novel by Orwell describing a perfect dystopian society. Now she thought of it, he was right, they were similar.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Katerina asked for the third time, still looking on awkwardly.

"No," River answered coldly. She would warm up to her soon, she just needed a few minutes to space herself from her. The Doctor nor Katerina had shared with River how they met, but she had guessed what the deal was.

"Okay," she replied shyly. The Doctor didn't appreciate how River was treating the new girl. Katerina was shy, but she was incredibly clever and could probably do something, but he figured he didn't want to get between the two women. He'd been there and it was not pretty. They would sort it out themselves.

The plan was this: the Doctor was making a giant transmitter that should reach even the far reaches of the planet and undo what pain the faeries had brought upon the women of the planet. River and Katerina were to help him. Sherlock, John, and Clara went to collect all of the still unconscious faeries and Esmeralda and keep them contained. Undoubtedly the Doctor had sent Sherlock off in hopes that he would get a lead on finding the room with the DNA so he can change himself back. Then, maybe, he could save the entire planet including the ones who had been changed. He was also going to try and send them home, but he wasn't sure if it was possible. He wasn't making any promises, but he would try his best, like he always did.

Sherlock ran along the hallways back to where they had left Esmeralda and her faeries. John and Clara struggled to keep up. They had managed to fix John's outfit slightly. He was still in the skirt because they didn't have anything to give him, but he had switched shirts with Sherlock. The sweater still didn't fit him quite as well as it had fit Sherlock, but it was better than the tight blouse that Sherlock was now rocking with his dark blue skinny jeans. He also was no longer was wearing the wedges and was running in bare feet and he had lost the wig and accessories. Clara would have laughed, but it wasn't a very funny situation.

Clara's brown hair flew out behind her and she quickly paused for a minute to throw it back in a ponytail. They came upon the spot where they had left their captors, but they were all gone.

"Oh crap," John muttered.

"This could be a trap, we should get out of here," Clara cautioned.

"Clever, that one," said a cold, mocking voice from somewhere above them, "Pity we have to kill you." They looked up simultaneously and saw a dark figure dropping from the high vaulted ceiling. Esmeralda was falling freely with claws outstretched and teeth bared. Her wings caught just before she landed on them so she didn't smash her face on the floor, and grabbed the nearest figure.

Clara screamed as Esmeralda clawed her, trying to carry her up away from Sherlock and John. She carried her up under her armpits, her legs dangling below her. John let out a yell of indignation and ran forward immediately, trying to jump up to grab her. He turned to his best friend, his face frantic.

"Sherlock. Help me!" John cried. Sherlock rushed forward and looked up.

"She's too high up, we have to find another way!"

"There isn't time!" John looked at the walls, all made of sheer concrete painted pink and huffed helplessly.

"Don't worry, I've got it," Clara said shakily from above them. They heard a crisp snap and Sherlock cried,

"No, Clara!" The snap had come from Esmeralda when Clara had tackled her and it immediately summoned all available faeries. They buzzed angrily like wasps and descended upon her. They bit her all over, making her skin itch and bleed. Clara screamed again. Sherlock calculated quickly and his head snapped up.

"Of course!" He ran away from John, going through the halls with a memorized layout in his head and found the laboratory again. It was the same room where they attempted to fix his mind, but now it was on the other side of the glass. Chemicals. Lots and lots of chemicals. He grabbed the few bottles he needed and ran back to the scene where Clara and John were. He held up three bottles triumphantly to show their enemies.

"One mistake, Esmeralda, just one!" She narrowed her eyes. The faeries contented themselves with just holding Clara up and turned to see what was going on.

"PINK!" Sherlock cried triumphantly, and John cracked a huge smile. Quickly, he followed up, "Acetone, methanol, and toluene! Three chemicals that will effectively dissolve paint. I can speed up the chemical reaction with one thing in particular, unless you release Clara, and I'll be content with doing it slowly." Esmeralda bared her pointy teeth at him.

"You can't do that!" Sherlock's eyes glimmered darkly.

"I assure you I can. Give me one good reason."

"I can kill her or any of you."

"But you won't, so that doesn't count. Too late!" He uncorked the bottles, throwing the liquid inside around on the pink paint, starting with the floor and then the walls and brought out a single thing from his pocket. It was a match.

"No, stop, you can't! Where-where did you even get that?" Esmeralda cried.

"My room," he shrugged, "Someone had hidden it under the floorboards. Nice security." Then Esmeralda smiled wickedly.

"You can't do that as long as she's up here with us," she sneered. That's when Sherlock paused and smiled up at her in return.

"Watch me," he replied. Clara looked nervous, but suddenly his train of thought dawned on her.

"Sherlock, do it, go!" she shouted. She squeaked when the faeries bit her to keep her silent.

"No, Sherlock, you can't!" John replied, "You can't leave her up there!"

"Do you trust me?" Sherlock asked him, looking intently into his eyes. John's heart fluttered and he replied quietly,

"Of course." Sherlock nodded, not taking his gaze away from John's. Then he looked at where he had spread the chemicals and smirked when the pink started to give way to the grey of the concrete. He looked up at the faeries and grinned as though waiting for something. Then a faerie dropped in front of them, unconscious. John looked at him confusedly as another faerie dropped. Suddenly they were dropping like flies and Esmeralda screamed with outrage.

"Stop it, stop it, you're killing them!"

"No, I'm not, that would take a lot more effort, they're just weak," he called back gleefully. John asked him,

"Is the paint affecting them somehow?"

"It's not paint. Head's up!" Clara yelped when the faeries holding her up dropped and she fell with them. John cursed and the two caught her just in time and she squeaked when she landed.

"Thanks," she said, holding her head, "I think-I think…" She stumbled and put out a hand to steady herself. John caught her hand to pull her back up. She had many tiny bite marks all over her skin that looked very painful. Sherlock looked at her with concern and said,

"We have to find you an antidote or you'll go unconscious at the very least. I don't know what they were injecting into you." Suddenly Esmeralda's voice rang out again,

"You cannot help her, they have given her their poison. She will die soon." She cackled but stumbled. The paint, or lack thereof, obviously had some effect on her, but not quite as severe. She stumbled again and tripped, falling off of her perch and apparently unable to catch herself. John instinctively went out to catch her, but Sherlock put an arm out to hold him back. She crashed to the ground and hissed at them. Sherlock scoffed,

"You're bluffing. If Clara was going to die, she would have done it already. I've seen your venom at work, she would be dead now. You've lost."

Sherlock approached her with a disgusted look on his face. She looked like she was trying to bite him, but he just took a step back. He raised a laced boot with now lethal looking heels above her body. He seemed to waver before bringing it down hard through her back. She cried out in pain, her face contorted with anger as she died. Sherlock looked shaken and he stepped away from her and reached out for John's hand. He took it, surprised by how much smaller it was than he was used to. His fingers were still long and delicate, but his hand was thinner and smaller. Clara turned away, covering her eyes. Sherlock closed his eyes and swallowed, but suddenly John tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sherlock...Sherlock, look at her. I don't think that's supposed to happen." Sherlock didn't open his eyes.

"John, she's dying, it's not going to look natural," he replied, his voice tense.

"No, this is different. I've seen a lot of people die, and this is different." Sherlock cracked open an eye to look at Esmeralda. She was dead now, or very close to it, but her appearance was changing. He opened his eyes completely and furrowed his brow.

"No, that's definitely not right," he agreed. He wrinkled his nose in disgust again. Esmeralda's body was changing constantly, going from form to form to form to form, all different types of alien bodies. Clara turned around and shrieked as one particular form came up. It was a metal machine with a plunger sticking out of the top and also from the side, as well as something that looked like a whisk. It had round golden orbs towards the bottom stuck in the metal. She looked terrified of it.

"What is that?" Sherlock asked curiously.

"I think it's called a Dalek," Clara replied, her voice shaking, "But I've never seen one before in my life, I don't know why I recognize it." The form changed again and she looked immensely relieved. It finally stopped changing and the body finally exploded and fell to the ground as a white mineral. Sherlock rushed forward, picking up a bit of it on his finger. He brought it to his mouth.

"Sherlock!" John warned. Sherlock frowned when it hit his tongue and just said,

"Salt. It's just salt." He ran a hand over the salt crystals and analyzed, "She seemed to be some kind of changeling. I don't think Esmeralda was her real name. She may not have even been a she. The salt was probably some defense mechanism so that no one could get a hold of her DNA to make their own changelings. Ironic, isn't it? Most of her race is probably dead, which is why she was trying to make more, but…" He looked at the stunned faeries lying around and picked one up, turning it over in his hand.

"These aren't the same as her. They're not the same race, so what was she doing?" He remembered what she said about the poison. "Was she making her own army?" he mused. He looked back at John and Clara. Clara rushed forward and picked up another faerie. She looked closely at it. John just shrugged.

"You dissolved a lot of the pink paint in this room. You did that because it was somehow the source of the faeries' power, right?" He nodded, his ponytail bobbing behind him. "So what would happen if you got rid of all of it." Sherlock frowned at her.

"I don't understand what you're getting at. It would probably kill them, Clara, what does that matter? We're not going to kill them all, you know." She nodded.

"I know. But the lack of paint affected Esmeralda too, so they must have been somewhat related. The paint wasn't a source of power for the faeries, it was for the changeling and the faeries must have been related to her to be affected by it at all. They were just so tiny, it just made them drop. But how?" she pondered. Sherlock appraised her,

"Clever, Clara!" John looked disappointed that he couldn't add anything to help, right before something popped into his head.

"Sherlock, Finn told us that she has to be changed into a faerie, right? They don't just pop into faeries at nineteen, they have to be changed. What if Esmeralda was injecting them with her own DNA to make a new species all together?" Sherlock grinned at him.

"And then when they attacked me, they exchanged my male defining genes with their own and then...oh yes!" he cried out, "Luckily they appeared to not give me the faerie nor changeling genes yet, just the female human ones because the paint didn't affect me at all nor am I pink. I'm older than nineteen so she must have been waiting for something to make me a faerie." A light appeared to flicker on in his head. "Oh, but she can't have. Because once the human mind hits age 21, it's done growing and developing for the most part, so she has do it between 18 and 21 because if she does it any earlier, it could kill them! After 21, if she tries to stuff more genes in there, it won't work either. Nineteen is the age she chose because it worked best for her. I was never supposed to be a faerie, so why did she bother?"

"Babies?" suggested Clara.

"What?"

"Well you told me what she assigned to the Doctor, and maybe she just figured she'd use you while she could. You're a girl. You can make babies. Sorry," she apologized when she saw the expression on his face. John snorted at the idea, but was also quickly silenced by Sherlock's glare.

"No, you're probably right, but that doesn't mean I have to like it," he told them. He ran his eyes up and down Clara before pursing his lips and turning away. She raised an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips.

"So what now?" she asked.

"Well, let's go see if we can find the DNA liquid for the Doctor so he can distribute it," Sherlock answered.

"How the hell is he going to do that? He'd have to spread it over the entire planet."

"Easily, please, Clara," he scoffed. He then launched into a long and complicated explanation that made both John and Clara incredibly confused. He paused when John gave him a look. He sighed dramatically and said simply, "He's going to spray it over the entire planet in tiny pieces. It's not a very big planet to begin with."

"But how will everyone get the pieces they need? What if it gets all mixed around and someone ends up with someone else's eyebrows or something?" John inquired.

"It's like air molecules. You and I are breathing the same air and every time I breathe in, I may inhale a molecule you just breathed out. Everyone breathes the same air at some point or another so if he launches it correctly, he will get the molecules into every corner of the planet. He could probably explain better how it will change them back, but it will be fine, I promise." He smiled warmly at John, who just looked at him with amusement, relieved that there wasn't a worse outcome.

((()))

River whipped around, gun pointed away from her and outwards as they heard steps behind them. Sherlock raised his hands in surrender and River slowly put it down. Clara and John were right behind him, panting. There were many stairs between this floor and the lower levels.

"We found the room you need, Doctor. There's too much in there to bring up with our hands and there's stairs, so we may need to find another way," Sherlock explained quickly. The Doctor clapped his hands together and turned around to face them.

"Perfect! Just, ah, you know what, actually we're fine. If I can just hook this up to this…" he turned back around and pulled a few lean straw-like pipes to something in the wall. Sherlock's face brightened in understanding.

"You just pump the liquid through the water pipes and it comes up here! Brilliant!" Sherlock hurried over to help him attach it. John cleared his throat.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he asked cautiously. Sherlock turned around and frowned at him.

"No, what?"

"What we found when we got there." Sherlock's face hardened again.

"Ah yes. It appears that someone was clumsy enough to knock over a section of some of the newer DNA, mine included, or else I'd be back to normal by now." Then it was the Doctor's turn to frown.

"Why didn't you just pick it up from the floor? The floor would have been spotless, so it's not really like drinking off the floor, is it? You know you just needed a tiny bit." Sherlock sighed and looked down, hands on his waist.

"That particular room has the floor all slanted steeply down so any run off goes straight into the drains. It was already drained by the time we got there." His gaze locked with the Doctor's.

"I'm stuck."


	7. Chapter 7

**Fair warning, this chapter is rather long. Let me know if there's any way specifically you want me to continue after this because seriously, I take all reviews into account. Do you want Sherlock to turn back into a guy? I dunno, just send in the reviews please, I really do love getting them. **

**I do not own BBC, or Sherlock or Doctor Who, the only thing I do own are the characters of Katerina and Connor and the storyline. Thank you! **

The Doctor's face melted into one of sympathy and concern.

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. There has to be something we can do!" He stood from where he was crouching and examined Sherlock, putting a hand on his chin and turning it sideways to look at him. "There has to be something...are you sure it's all gone?" Sherlock nodded a little sadly.

"We tried to see where the drain went, but it just goes straight down through the planet. They don't want anyone recovering anything if it drains. Probably an effective way to get rid of troublesome people as well," he explained. Katerina suddenly emerged from the corner where she'd been sulking.

"Who else's was knocked over?" she asked curiously. He frowned at her.

"I don't...I don't know, we didn't look at the labels. I assume anyone who was changed in the last two months, judging by the time stamps. Very organized, the faerie," he told her. She looked a little disappointed.

"It's just...when I came here, my little brother...he was with me. They took him almost immediately and changed him. I don't know where he is now, but I assume he's still a young girl." Sherlock noticed quickly that she seemed to be developing an Irish accent. He looked at her curiously.

"Where are you from originally, Katerina?" he inquired suddenly. She looked confused.

"Dublin," she responded as if it were obvious. Sherlock's eyes narrowed and the Doctor turned around, wide eyed.

"What year was it when you left?"

"1844." Now John frowned and asked a question,

"How did you get here?"

"Not sure, to be honest," her accent was growing thicker, but it was still relatively easy to understand her, "Like I said, my brother and I came together. We were playing out in the woods and we found a cave. It had a purple-ish glowing light coming from it, so we went in to see if there were crystals or something of the like. Never found the crystals but ended up here." Sherlock opened his mouth to ask something else when she ran over him, "It was strange at first, so many new things, but I doubt anything would surprise me now. I've seen all of your technology and it's quite fascinating. I should like to replicate it when I get home." She just looked bright and curious, a girl of eighteen.

"No, no, no," the Doctor said quickly. He ran over to her and put his hands on her shoulders to look at her closely. "You mustn't do that. Katerina, this is alien technology. Can you imagine the harm it would do in your world?" She looked confused.

"No, I would use it for good, only to help. The farms have started to get a little weak, so maybe it could help," she said brightly. Sherlock and the Doctor exchanged a glance. They both remembered that little bit of history. They had accidentally arrived in 1845 Dublin and found devastation everywhere. It was the Great Famine of Ireland, the potato famine. And this girl came from the year just before. How could they take her back there now? She had a good chance of starving to death if they took her back.

"Katerina, honey, you can't," said River, also picking up on this tidbit of history, "The years to come are fixed and if you were to introduce that type of tech it could have devastating results." Katerina looked at her, a curious expression coming over her face again.

"Are these fixed points wonderful? How is my future?" she asked River wistfully. River hid her frown and tried to smile brightly.

"I can't tell you, hun." Katerina looked a bit dampened, but seemed ignorant of the sadness in River's eyes. She had no idea…

The Doctor clapped his hands together again nervously, and interjected, "I think we'd better be going. We really should just wrap this up and carry on, eh?" River shot him a glare, but Sherlock nodded and said,

"Yes, quite. John, come with me, we'll go connect it downstairs and then shoot the DNA up to his receptor." John nodded and followed Sherlock downstairs. Clara looked from Katerina's smiling face to the Doctor to River and back again. Something wasn't right here. Everyone was keeping Katerina in the dark about something and she would find out what, or at least force them to tell her what was wrong with her future. She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed impatiently.

"What am I supposed to do?" she called, feeling slightly neglected. The Doctor looked at her and said,

"Ah...I don't know, Clara. We're nearly done here, didn't you have a friend out there? You want to go tell her what's going on so she doesn't freak out?" Clara took this badly and frowned at him before rolling her eyes and rushed outside to find Finn. She had been dismissed. She felt neglected and not involved. It wasn't her fault she wasn't familiar with quantum physics and couldn't help with that. She definitely wasn't stupid, but he was making her feel like she was.

Clara soon located Finn sitting in her little cottage, looking incredibly bored. She hurried inside uninvited, as the door was open, and called, "Finn!" She looked up from what she was doing and rushed over to her.

"Clara, what are you doing here? I thought...the faeries…"

"Didn't bother me. Much. Just tried to kill me, but besides that...anyway, that's not important! The Do- my friend is going to change you back. Esmeralda stored the DNA in a room and now we know how to fix you!" Finn's expression quickly changed from confused, to worried and then to happy.

"He can do that?"

"Of course! You'll be back to normal in no time, isn't that great?" Finn nodded but then looked wistfully at her body.

"But...I'm so pretty…" Clara smacked her lightly on the arm and said,

"Oh lighten up, come on, quit kidding around!" She grabbed her wrist and pulled her outside. "Best exposure out here, I bet. Just stand here and he'll rain it down on everyone! You'll all go back to your own genders, species, colors, races, everything!" A couple of girls looked at her strangely in passing but Clara simply grinned at them and waved happily. She had forgotten about the Doctor's unintentional negligence and danced around happily.

"It'll be soon, I promise," she told her friend excitedly.

((()))

"John! Grab this pipe," Sherlock called. "Quickly!" John scowled at his tense tone and pulled the tiny hose over in his direction. Sherlock quickly attached it with his new thinner fingers and said,

"There, done. Now bring me the first of the vials." John obediently did as he was told and the two started pumping the DNA up to the Doctor.

Sherlock wiped his hands when the last of it had been shot up and looked at John, who was frowning.

"What?" he asked him.

"Aren't you worried?"

"About what, John?" John gestured to Sherlock's body.

"Does that not bother you at all?" Sherlock looked down at himself.

"No, why? It isn't inhibiting my abilities intellectually at all and physically it's just a bit unbalancing. Other than that, it's fine."

"Sherlock, you're a different gender! You're a girl and will be for a long time unless he can fix you. How does that not bother you?" Sherlock snorted with amusement.

"Yes, isn't it funny? You always seemed to be the girl in our relationship and look at how we ended up." This was the wrong thing to say.

"Excuse me?" John asked, appalled by what his friend had just told him. "Why am I the girl and - excuse you, what relationship?" Sherlock snorted again, crossing his arms across his busty chest.

"Oh please. You're just acting stupid now."

"Sherlock, what?"

"Are you seriously that dim?"

"Are you going to stop insulting me soon?"

"We'll see."

"I don't understand...what relationship? I never said anything!"

"Well it's obvious to say the least."

"Why didn't you bring this up before so I could be less obvious then or something?"

"Because I didn't want you to be less obvious." John let out a huff of frustration.

"Why not, so you could watch me make a fool of myself?"

"No, of course not, don't be stupid."

"Well why then?" They were both near shouting now and almost nose to nose. John was incredibly annoyed by Sherlock's behavior, but nevertheless, his heart was pounding. He failed to notice that Sherlock's was too. John's gaze softened when he looked right into Sherlock's eyes now, still the same shade of green with flecks of gold. Sherlock let his head fall forward slightly to let his forehead rest on John's, as if waiting for him to close the gap between them.

Suddenly they heard footsteps and sprang apart when Katerina entered the room. She paused and asked cautiously in a thick Irish accent,

"Was I interrupting something?" They both hastily shook their heads and didn't say anything, so she told them, "The Doctor sent me down to get you two. Come on, then!" She grinned widely, her red hair fluffed up slightly from running down the stairs. They smiled politely and followed her up, but exchanged glances of slight annoyance at the interruption.

((()))

The Doctor turned when Sherlock, John, and Katerina entered and said, "Good, good, everybody's here, but...where's Clara?" River glared at him and answered accusingly,

"You sent her away to go find her friend down in the city because you told her you didn't need her." The Doctor cringed.

"Did I really?"

"Yes, you ass, so you'd better hope we find her before we have to leave." The Doctor cringed again, looking guilty at what he had unintentionally done. Then he flipped the lever to release the DNA. He brightened again as he stuck his head out the window and saw the liquid settling in the atmosphere before falling down as rain a few minutes later. It was, of course, colored pink.

As they all leaned out the windows for a better look, they saw the girls at the bottom coming outside to see the pink rain. They heard shrieks of enjoyment and surprise and the Doctor smiled. He was back to saving people.

((()))

Clara and Finn danced together in the rain, and soon her hands became bigger and more calloused. She grew taller, soon stretching the light fabric she was wearing. Her chest became broader and flatter, the skin tanning and the face becoming more square, the hair receding into her head. Soon Finn was a guy again. Clara giggled at the sight of him in the skirt and blouse. He looked down and blushed, rushing back inside the cottage and emerged a few minutes later in what appeared to be the clothing he arrived in. He explained that they had let him keep it for sentimental sake. Now it was useful.

Clara smiled warmly at him. She found it strange now that, quite frankly, she was strangely attracted to him. He was very good-looking, with spiked up blond hair now being flattened by the rain, and his eyes remained unchanged, the beautiful deep blue. He smiled at her and held out his hand for another dance. She smiled coyly at him, but told him a bit sadly, "I can't, Finn. I have to get back to my friends." Finn gave her a toothy smile and asked,

"Just one thing, what's your friend's name?" She smiled again and said,

"His name is the Doctor. I'll be back to get you." And with that, she ran off, leaving him in the rain, shaking his blond head with amusement.

((()))

As Clara ran back to the palace to find her comrades, she noticed that they were all making a dash out of the place. She ran straight into them, slipping and finding herself in the Doctor's arms. He had caught her to keep her from falling into the deep mud. Mud on a cloud. Go figure.

Clara scowled at him at first, but then he smiled at her, both apology and warmth in his smile. She couldn't help but smile back. He propped her back up and said,

"Nice to see you!" She just replied a bit bitterly,

"And you, although I would rather have not left at all. I am clever, you know." He looked at her a little guiltily and said,

"Yes, I know. I'm sorry, Clara." She knew he meant it, so she hugged him quickly before River passed them and said,

"We really have to go, Doctor." He let go of Clara and replied,

"Quite right. Come along, everyone." As they jogged in the pouring rain, Clara suddenly remembered someone and tugged on the Doctor's sleeve.

"We can't leave him...Doctor I promised Finn we'd take him home," she said, panting. He frowned thoughtfully as they kept moving and said,

"I've left a Portal up at the palace that can take anyone home if they want to leave, Finn can take that. It's engineered to know exactly where the person originates and sends them there."

"I'm sure you did, but I promised." She gave him huge puppy eyes and he scowled.

"Oh, all right, but be quick. Meet us at the gates."

She ran off in the direction of the city and tried to find Finn, calling his name. She smiled with relief when she saw him poking his head out of the pink cottage. Clara approached him and put a hand around his wrist.

"Come on, the Doctor's going to take you home!" she said cheerfully. He resisted her pull and just gave her a sad look.

"I'm not coming." She stopped pulling his sleeve and looked up at him, wide-eyed.

"What?"

"I have to stay here."

"But...don't you want to go home?"

"No, I can't." He looked away from her curious gaze, grief staining his beautiful features. He handed her the picture he had shown her the day before, still not looking at her. He and another girl standing on the beach, looking happy.

"I have nothing to go back to, Clara," he whispered, the rain pounding around them so no one else could hear. These words were meant only for her. "The girl in the photograph is...was my girlfriend. She died in a car accident. Then my mom died of an aneurism and my sister committed suicide a year after. My life was messed up there, and I don't really have anything else to lose back there, but nothing else to gain. I could start again here." Clara looked up at him, sympathy on her face. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Finn." He gently raised a hand up to where her hand was and squeezed it gently before bringing it back down and released it. It hung by her side limply.

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. There's a lot of people here who don't want to go home either. That's the thing with Oz. A lot of the people who end up here have no where else to go, nothing else to lose." He smiled warmly at her. "But you know what? With the faeries not bothering us anymore, we could start a new life." He squeezed her hand again. "Do you want to stay?"

Clara knew what she would pick, it wasn't even an option, not even a choice for her. "No," she said, stepping back once, "I stay with the Doctor, all the way." Finn nodded in understanding, but asked one more thing of her.

"What makes him so special?" He looked like a curious puppy, the way he tilted his head to the side when he asked questions. She sighed and just said,

"You would know if you met him. Just trust me on this. I have to go. I'm sorry, Finn. I have to leave now." She let his hand fall away and stepped back once, a small bright smile set on her face, before she turned away and ran towards the gate. As she left, she called to him,

"There's a Portal for anyone who wants to go home, don't forget! And don't you dare, Finn, don't you dare forget me!" He waved her off and put his hands in his jeans pockets, chuckling to himself, knowing that he couldn't forget her if he tried.

((()))

The Doctor flung himself out the gates of the city, looking around anxiously for Clara.

"Where is she?" River asked impatiently. The Doctor didn't reply as he paced back and forth in front of the TARDIS. Sherlock was leading John along by the sleeve and Katerina looked ecstatic at the prospect of leaving. Suddenly, a little ball of pink light shot down from above. The faerie stopped in front of the Doctor, burning hot pink with fury.

"You can't leave," she squeaked, "You've ruined everything! Esmeralda was our goddess."

"Your goddess?" he gawked, almost laughing, "No, you've been brainwashed. She was a monster." His expression darkened.

"We will not let you leave!" she squeaked again. Three remaining faeries revealed themselves, ready to launch themselves at the companions. River whipped out her two guns, training them on the faeries. They whipped out of her sights quickly and launched themselves at them. John and Sherlock whacked them every time they got too close and the Doctor tried to sonic them, which seemed to momentarily stun them, and River was shooting at them. So far, she hadn't managed to hit anything, which was unusual for her.

Clara suddenly turned the corner and her mouth formed a small "O" when she saw what was going on. She yelped when a faerie flew at her and River soon stood in front of her protectively. The Doctor yelled out,

"Clara, what took you so long?"

"I was saying goodbye, for your information!"

"Well you should have done it faster!"

"Really, you two? Now you're going to do this?" River interrupted. She managed to shoot one faerie, basically exploding the poor thing, it was such a small target. Suddenly Katerina screamed and Clara and River turned to look at her. She was doubled over in pain.

"Doctor, we have to go!" River shouted, shooting down another faerie.

"Really? I hadn't noticed!" he replied tersely. He dove to the side and clicked his fingers to open the TARDIS. He grabbed Sherlock's wrist and pulled him in the right direction. The pair from 221B were safely in the TARDIS. Then he yelled for River and Clara who ducked and quickly ran into the blue box. He smacked away a faerie who tried to get in, and as a result, the two thrust themselves on Katerina, who was still doubled over and didn't seem to have the willpower to move. River covered him as he went to grab the Irish girl and shot down one of the faeries attacking her. She shot the remaining faerie, who fell with a sort of grace, settling softly on the cloud. They dragged Katerina into the TARDIS and noticed a small boy following closely behind, looking about ten years old.

When the Doctor flew away in the TARDIS, River demanded, "Who is that?" The little boy whimpered, as the muzzle of her gun was still pointed at him. John spoke,

"Oh, that's Katerina's brother. She managed to snag him on the way here, but we didn't get a chance to tell you. I think his name is Connor." River nodded, lowering the gun and put out a hand for him to hold. The little boy with bright green eyes looked distrustfully at her, before glancing at his sister. She was lying on the floor, curled in a fetal position. It was the first time River seemed to notice her condition.

"Doctor!" she called, "There's something wrong with Katerina!" The Doctor glanced over, a regretful expression on his face. He didn't move.

"I know."

"Well come help us!" Everyone rushed over and Sherlock and River turned her over. Katerina cried out in pain. Her breathing was shallow and quick, and she was shaking violently.

"What's wrong with her? What's happening to Katerina?" Connor demanded. Katerina's eyes met his and she tentatively stuck out a hand, touching her fingers with his. Then her eyes rolled in the back of her head as she arched her back in pain. River and Clara quickly whisked the child away, leading him away to another part of the TARDIS. The Doctor just kept his head lowered regretfully.

"She's dying," Sherlock announced in a whisper. John nodded seriously at him.

"There's nothing we can do," the Doctor said quietly, "The faeries ganged up on her and bit her, giving her enough of their fatal venom to kill her." Sherlock looked back on the girl and then up at John again. John looked slightly distressed, and was struggling to locate the wounds. Sherlock put a hand on his to stop them from moving.

"We have to do something!" he said weakly. Katerina was flat on the floor again, eyes staring blankly ahead as she struggled to breathe.

"John, it's over, she's almost gone. You heard him. By the time you locate the wound, she'll be dead," Sherlock told him softly. John stared at him, stubbornness set in his jaw.

"I won't give up on her, I'm a doctor!" He pulled his hands away from Sherlock's and kept searching in vain for the fatal wound. The Doctor walked over slowly, closing his eyes in remorse as he saw Katerina's porcelain face with few freckles and a bit of her hair in her face. That ginger hair. It reminded him to much of Amy. Thinking about that was not helping.

Katerina's breathing slowed steadily and John retracted his hands from searching, recognizing he'd been beaten. Her eyes fluttered slightly as her gaze shifted from the Doctor to John and to Sherlock.

"Thank you...for taking me home," she slurred, "I can see...the forest…" Each word seemed to cost her a great deal of energy and everyone struggled to hear her. The slur plus the accent and how quietly she was speaking made her hard to understand. The Doctor shushed her softly. "No. Connor...safe?" she asked. John nodded. She nodded in return, almost imperceptibly, as she gazed up at the ceiling of the TARDIS. She raised a hand a few centimeters from the ground, obviously looking for someone to take it. The Doctor took her small, delicate hand in his warm, comforting ones. A tear rolled down her cheek as her breathing slowed to a halt and she was gone.

All three gathered around Katerina bowed their heads with respect. She was so young, too young to die so far away from home. She had risked so much in helping them escape and she had paid with her life. She did not deserve that. The Doctor moved a piece of hair away from her face gently before kissing her on the cheek. He then stood quickly and walked away. John looked over his shoulder to see where he had gone. When he looked back at Sherlock, his expression slightly frightened him.

"You're not seriously thinking of using her body for your experiments are you?" he asked harshly. Sherlock's gaze snapped to his and he gave him a withering look.

"Do you really think I would do that? You know me better than that, John," he said quietly. John heard the deep hurt in his voice and he looked down.

"Of course not. I'm sorry." Sherlock's mouth twitched as a smile attempted to appear and he tilted John's chin up slightly to look at him. John looked back at him, curiosity evident in his features.

"Good," Sherlock replied simply. Then he stood up and walked to the center console. He lifted a hand to rest it on the console when the Doctor reprimanded him sharply.

"Do not, Sherlock Holmes, touch or even look at any buttons, levers, or other interesting things on my console or so help me I will dump you into the time vortex." His hands were clenched and by his sides when he said this, fuming. Sherlock simply snapped his wrist back up gracefully and raised a thin brow at him. John busied himself with covering Katerina's body, or at least her upper torso with his jacket. He lifted her up with little problem, as she was quite light.

"What do we do with Katerina?" he asked them both. They just stared until the Doctor looked down, his hands and his pockets and said,

"We take her home. And Connor." John set her body off to the side, managing to find a bigger blanket to cover her with. Then he walked over to them.

"We can't just...take them home. You both looked uncertain when she told you where she lived and I know that look on you, especially you, Sherlock." Sherlock frowned at John, but didn't say a word. The Doctor put a hand on John's shoulder.

"I know that, but I can't just take them with me. Obviously, it's not affecting Katerina's wellbeing anymore and there's nothing I can do to protect Connor. Where else would you like me to deposit him?" the Doctor's voice was getting higher with agitation and his hands fidgeted like they did when he got upset, "If you have a better idea, let me know, because I can't think of any." John thought for a minute before saying,

"We could-"

"No, we couldn't," Sherlock interrupted him, "If you are suggesting that you and I take Connor, which no doubt you were, I am telling you no. First of all, we don't have the resources nor time or energy to care for a child." John opened his mouth furiously to interrupt but Sherlock plowed on, "Two, he's used to living in 19th century Ireland, don't you think the change to 21st century England would be a bit harsh? Three, I doubt there's anywhere he'd rather be than home upon the death of his sister anyhow and despite how hard life will be with him in the Great Famine, it's wrong to leave him without his family even if it is for his own good. FOUR," he announced, his voice getting very loud now, "We knew when we went to that time period that that event is fixed, so we couldn't prevent it with technology even if we wanted to, and he has to be there or entire timelines could be rewritten! Honestly, John, have you learned nothing from the great man standing before you?" Sherlock gestured to the Doctor, who looked a bit surprised by his outburst. John's face darkened and told him simply,

"Fine, you insensitive ass. We'll leave him in devastation, hope he doesn't die, and fly off. I'm sorry for being so stupid. My mistake. I'll just leave you with the only other man on this vessel who has a brain, apparently." John stormed off in the other direction, finding his way to where River, Clara, and the boy were staying. Sherlock put out a hand in his general direction and almost called out to him, but then his face crumbled and he looked down at his feet.

"I'm sorry, John," he apologized to the ground. The Doctor seemed to want to come over and comfort him, but then seemed to think better of it and left him alone. Sherlock settled on the couch nearby, brooding into his hands. The TARDIS was silent as they flew to Connor and Katerina's home.

((()))

The TARDIS landed roughly in dewy grass. The Doctor announced that they had landed and Clara came rushing in first. She grabbed the Doctor by his shirt and said frantically,

"Please tell me it isn't true."

"What?"

"You're not sending him into that timeline are you?" Apparently River or John had filled her in on something while Connor was sleeping. The Doctor sighed uncomfortably before replying,

"Clara, I have to."

"No, you don't."

"Well what do you suggest I do?"

"I don't...you have to do something!"

"Clara, it doesn't work like that. There's not always something I can do. Some points are fixed and this is. If it makes you feel better, we can come back in ten years and see what became of him." He knew that wasn't good enough.

"That's not good enough," she said dangerously. Connor numbly walked up to them. John had been tasked with telling him what happened to his sister. It wasn't going to be easy. His dirt-smeared face had tear streaks, but he seemed to be taking it quietly. He was clutching John's hand like it was the only thing keeping him on the ground. Sherlock noted that his fingers were steadily turning blue. John refused to even look at Sherlock. River was behind all of them and had been given the task of telling Connor's family what had happened. She was dressed in the clothing of the time period and region and was, quite frankly, rocking the Irish outfit. She also had a small tranquilizer gun in a secret pocket in case anything got out of hand.

John kneeled down and talked to Connor quietly. "Look, buddy, you can do this. River's going to take you back home, okay? You gotta be strong, for Katerina." He smiled warmly at the boy as he slowly released the older man's hand. "Thanks, mate. I'll be back, you know. In a few years, we'll come back to visit." The boy couldn't be older than 9 or 10, but he smiled for the first time in a while and nodded. He understood and looked forward to it.

River stepped forward, Katerina's limp body in her arms. They had put water on Katerina for the cover story that everyone understood. She had fallen into a well and drowned before River could save her. They hadn't managed to find the faerie bite that really killed her, but since no part of her body was swollen, they figured the family wouldn't find it either. When River returned, she looked weary. She leaned back to close the door behind her and closed her eyes. All she said was, "Ten years, Doctor. He's counting on us."

((()))

A tall man with ginger hair awoke with a start for the third time, clutching the sheets tightly. His eyes were wide and heart beating too quickly. He laid back against the rough bed, his thin neck cracking when he leaned back. He closed his eyes and sighed. He'd had another dream. Another nightmare.

His nightmare always started the same. His late sister Katerina pulled him along by the hand. "Look, Katerina!" he squeaked, "A cave, a cave!" She smiled warmly at him and said quietly, "Let's go on an adventure!" Then the dream changed and flashes of pink fluttered in front of his eyes. Malicious voices telling him what to do. Being pushed around in a dress. Why was he wearing a dress? Fingers pinching and pulling and teasing. But then Katerina was gone. That was the worst part. He would have been brave if she was there, but she wasn't. She never was anymore. She was gone. And the pinching and pulling and teasing got worse. And the pink flecks got teeth and bit him. And flew in his eyes. And completely toppled him until nothing he could see was pink. Pink, pink, pink, always pink.

That's always when he woke up. Connor Brennan rubbed his eyes and stretched. He stared numbly at the weak straw ceiling above his head. He huffed and rubbed his eyes again. His life had gone from bad to worth since his sister died 10 years ago. He didn't blame her of course, it wasn't her fault. But he was almost convinced that because of her death everything had gotten worse. But of course, that had nothing to do with it. It was just coincidence.

First the potatoes died. Most of the crop was completely gone and the rest that was left was rotten. For other countries, it may not have been such a big deal since they have other crops, but in Ireland, it was their safety crop. Dependable. People started to die. By the dozens, then by the hundreds and the thousands. All slowly starving to death with not much to eat. Many tried to replant, but didn't live long enough to see the harvest season and then all those potatoes were dead too. Any that did grow were rotten and most just withered away. And then there was a mass exodus to America, the New World. It seemed so great as an option, but Connor couldn't possibly hope to buy his way across the ocean, nor was he able to stow away. His parents had died early in the famine, but somehow Connor had managed to scrape along. He was completely and utterly alone. The only thought that kept him going was that that nice man with the sandy brown hair and the kind face was coming back for him.

Connor had always been a fighter, but he was close to death a couple of times, but the possibility that he could be saved from this fate kept him going. And then maybe that man would tell him how Katerina really died. He knew full well she didn't fall down a well; she was much too clever for that. It had something to do with that pink place and he was determined to find out.

As the sun leaked through the flaws in the ceiling and walls of his modest cottage, he sighed again and sat himself up, with difficulty. Things had started looking up about a year ago, but conditions were still pretty horrible. It was the year 1853 and Connor was nineteen years old. He had counted the days since the nice man left and he knew he had to come soon. He examined his thin hands. He was able to see each bone and joint in his hand. They were always shaking now. Going up his arm, they looked the same way. He could see his ribs explicitly and his face was grey and sunken. He knew he could have been very handsome, but the lack of nutrition had kept him away from that. But that didn't matter to him. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were when he was a child. He could barely stand to look out the door.

What had pulled him to the door was a familiar and yet surreal sound. A peculiar whooshing that was like nothing he'd ever heard before, save for one other time, and that was the last time he saw the nice man. A smile tugged at his dry lips and he smiled for the first time in years as a bright blue box appeared on the barren soil. The first one out of the machine was the funny looking man with the bowtie. The Doctor caught sight of Connor and looked regretful. He recognized him, to be sure.

"John," he called, "Sherlock, River, Clara. We're here. He's...he's here." Connor heard footsteps pounding from a length that was much farther away than they should have been in the tiny box. A pale woman with curly black hair tied back in a ponytail the way Connor's was and she scrutinized him.

"Definitely him, they match facial structures," she nodded at the Doctor. He nodded and frowned, stepping out of the machine and approached him slowly. The lady with the fluffy hair came out next and looked furious at Connor's appearance. The lady with the darker brown hair and chocolate brown eyes saw him and had the same furious expression. What were they mad at him for? But then he discovered it wasn't him their anger was aimed at. The dark brown-haired woman walked across the soil to the Doctor, put hand on his shoulder so he turned, and slapped him hard across the face. Connor winced for him, but looked past him, looking for the sandy-haired man.

"Ow!" exclaimed the Doctor, "What-Clara-why?" She pointed a finger at him to reprimand him and said darkly,

"You know exactly what for." Then Clara walked towards Connor and put her hand on his arm, examining him carefully.

"Oh Connor...I'm so sorry…" she whispered. He told her, his voice rasping now,

"It's not your fault." She looked as though she wanted to argue, but left it alone. She walked away, wiping away a tear at the sordid scene that surrounded them. River had a murderous expression on, as if someone were personally responsible for the famine. For all he knew, maybe someone was. Then the man he was looking for emerged from the machine.

"Sorry, I was getting a coat, it's quiet chilly, I - what happened to you…?" he asked Connor. Connor walked towards him slowly, limping weakly, asking quietly,

"What really happened to Katerina?" When he looked like he was going to lie to him, he continued, "I have to know." The man looked down at his feet and then around, looking for help. Everyone just looked ashamed.

"The faeries...when they attacked, do you remember?" Connor thought and then nodded. "They bit her and she was poisoned. We couldn't do anything." Connor's face darkened.

"Why did you lie to me? I knew she didn't fall down a well," he rasped.

"You were little," Clara cut in, "There were a lot of things we couldn't tell you." Sherlock shot her a warning look. Connor raised an eyebrow.

"What else didn't you tell me?" No one spoke. "Well?" John looked up at him, sorrow in his eyes and then looked back down at his feet. Connor's voice was a dangerous whisper now. "Did you know this was going to happen? Is that what you couldn't tell me?" This time River spoke.

"Connor...how could you expect us to-"

"So that's your answer. You did know and you didn't even think to give me a couple hints. Tips. Pieces of advice. Thanks for nothing." Connor was upset now and he spit at John's feet. Sherlock started forward, but the Doctor swung out an arm to stop him. "I thought you all were helping us. But look where it's landed me. Katerina's dead and I'm on the brink of such. All I can hope is that I'll see her again when I go."

"You're not going to die," River argued.

"Look at me!" Connor pulled up his shirt to show them his barely existent stomach and ribcage poking out. The Doctor looked more ashamed than ever. "I know I'm not special like you guys. I don't know anything, fine. But I was nine! You lied to me and you brought me back somewhere that could've killed me. The only reason I'm still alive is because I was waiting for you lot to help me. You promised you'd come back and I thought...I hoped you could save me. Save Ireland."

"Connor, I can't just-" the Doctor started.

"You have a machine that took us to and from that place and disappeared and reappeared in front of my house! I saw you all fighting the pink! Why couldn't you help us?"

"Connor, we-"

"Go away. You're not welcome here anymore. You let me down and I don't…I don't want you here anymore." Connor felt sad and angry at them at the same time. How could they do this to him?

"We came to help," Clara squeaked. Connor snorted,

"Yeah, what a great help you all are. Good-bye." And with that he shut his door in their face. Clara sighed and both she and River shot the Doctor angry glares. John just looked sad and Sherlock, thoughtful. The Doctor put his hands in his pockets and sighed, walking slowly back to the TARDIS. Everyone piled in. When River got testy with him, he yelled at her to get in the TARDIS or he was going to leave her there. She hastily obliged, but was still furious with him.

"Why didn't you do anything?" Clara asked him quietly. The Doctor glared at her. She just stared back angrily.

"Clara, if I interfered every time someone was having a tough time-"

"He was starving!"

"Thank you, I'm aware. There's not always something I can do. I was aware of Connor's timeline, alright? This had to happen to him and this had to happen to Ireland." He grasped the air as if trying to find something. Everyone was standing around looking at him expectantly. Even Sherlock seemed to be short an explanation. "Look, you lot. Imagine if...if the Titanic tragedy didn't happen. Yes, of course it was awful, don't get me wrong, but we learned from it, didn't we? They set up Iceberg Patrols and such to make sure it never happened again. If I sheltered him and prevented the famine from happening, something else bad would have happened. Maybe later, but it still would have happened. It's a ripple effect, and I can just go around fixing everything!" River nodded. She understood, having travelled with him for so long. She just looked a little sad, but she accepted it. Sherlock seemed to understand too, but John and Clara didn't look convinced. Clara raised a cynical eyebrow.

"Is that all that was to you? A learning experience?" she asked coldly. The Doctor scrutinized her, invading her personal space to look her square in the eye.

"You don't understand. I have interfered before and the outcome was worse than what we started with. You know Pompeii? Me. Because the choice was between blowing up the planet or killing those people in Pompeii."

"But that's-

"Different? No it's not."

"You told me you saved someone. Just one family. Why couldn't you have saved Connor?"

"Because I told you, his timeline is fixed. He has to carry on the way he is. He has to d-" He had almost said 'die' and caught himself, but Clara immediately picked up on it.

"Die? You knew he has to die? What kind of life is that, knowing who lives and who dies and not being able to do anything about it?" A ghost of a smile was on the Doctor's lips.

"An old friend brought that up once. I think he said something like, 'If you could decide who lives and who dies, that would make you a monster'," the Doctor's face suddenly turned serious, "And that's absolutely true, Clara, and I have never forgotten it." He was silent for a moment to let it sink in. Her eyes darted back and forth from one of his eyes to the other, back and forth, looking confused now.

"How could you possibly know what it's like to lose someone like Connor did? And now he's lost and alone! How do you justify that?" she asked him with frustration. The minute the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. A dark look came over his eyes as he sighed and looked down. The Doctor put his fingers on her temples and flowed information into her mind about what had happened with the previous companions that he had had to choose the greater good over saving them. Rose, Donna, Amy and Rory. He only left out Martha because she had left by her own free will, and she wasn't relevant at the moment. The memories hurt him as well, but he knew this was the only way to make her understand.

Clara was shaking when he was done and tears balanced on her eyelashes. She shook her head and backed away a couple of paces. "All of those things," he explained quietly, "Were always going to happen. I couldn't change them. You know why I couldn't save them and that it's for the better that I didn't. There were more companions, too, you know, who died for me and the same reason. They knew there was something greater out there than themselves and they sacrificed themselves for it. Just like I had to leave some behind for a greater cause. That is my burden, Clara. The burden of a Time Lord who lives for thousands of years and ends up with choices like this one. And this is my choice that was never mine to make." John looked down at his feet sadly. He looked up when Sherlock reached out his hand and took it. This made him feel a bit better.

Clara just looked horrified, but as it sank in, she swallowed and said, "Okay. I understand now. Thank you for taking the time to explain it to me, Doctor, and I apologize for my own ignorance." He let out a sudden laugh.

"No need to sound so formal!"

"What?"

"You're my friend, you don't need to apologize so formally." He walked over to her and put his arms around her in a tight hug. She hesitated for a minute before letting herself lean into him. It was so easy to trust him. She buried her head into his chest for a minute before pulling out of the hug and smiling at him. He smiled warmly back at her and went back to piloting the TARDIS.


End file.
